NYC: New Young CSI
by CSINYMinute
Summary: A new CSI, a new start and quite the surprise for our favorite Homicide detective. Established DL, hints of SMacked and all your favorite characters! A Flack/OC, with Bones xover
1. News

**Some Kind of Trouble**

**Disclaimer – I own absolutely nothing except Rebecca Rhodes (wish I did mind…)**

Apartment 3B had been empty for quite a while, since Mrs Solis had died. Walking by, Flack noticed the door was open and there was a smell of fresh paint. The over-weight super was sweating, trying to fix a large hook into the ceiling. Flack pushed the door open further, failing to suppress a smile at the sight.

"You know, Joe, I really hate to ask what you're doing" he said, grinning.

Joe, taken by surprise, staggered; the ladder wobbled precariously. The over-weight man swore in Italian.

"Jeez Donnie, dontcha know not to sneak up on a man like that?

"Sorry, I was passing and wondered what the hook was for." Replied Flack.

Finally finished, Joe stepped down to the floor and wiped his forehead.

"Well it ain't for my health, that's for sure. We finally let this place. New tenant wanted a strong hook to hang something from. Maybe a love swing?"

Flack laughed. "Sure. Maybe. You can only dream, right?"

"Well it's something for you to do, right, detecting, Detective?" replied Joe, with a laugh.

Flack grinned and shrugged into the coat he was carrying.

"I gotta go Joe, duty with NY's finest calls." He said.

"Have a good day Donnie – make the streets safer." Replied Joe

"You know it!" said Flack, and headed out the door.

Crime Lab had been light on cases for the last few weeks and Detective Mac Taylor had had his staff reviewing all the unsolved cases. With Lindsey Messer still out on maternity leave, the rest of the team hard stretched. Now they were all taking a well-earned coffee break in the rest room. Danny Messer was showing Stella Bonasera the latest batch of pics of his baby, while Adam was busy with the next level of _Grand Theft Auto_. Mac walked in.

"Morning. Can I have your attention for a couple of minutes?" he said.

Everyone looked up.

"As you know, we've been a little short on people recently, what with the funding cuts and Lindsey being away," he said, with a nod to Danny.

"Fortunately, I got the new Inspector to agree to let us take someone new on, certainly until Lindsey comes back and then possibly permanently."

"That's great!" said Stella

"Yeah, it'll be nice to get home before midnight," said Danny, "I mean, I got a family now, you know?"

"So when do we start advertising?" asked Stella.

"Actually, we already interviewed and recruited an outstanding candidate. They start on Monday. It's a Dr Rhodes, with an impressive resume and the kind of forensic skills we've needed here for a long time. Not that I think any of you don't." he replied, smiling.

"It'll be nice not to be the newbie around here," said Adam, looking away from his game.

Danny raised his hands and looked up to the ceiling.

"What are you doing?" asked Stella.

"Thanking the gods for someone new to torment and who might be persuaded to cover for me." He said.

It was a hot afternoon which Flack was grateful for not having to work on. He'd done the early and was heading back to his apartment for a well-earned cold beer. Walking down the street, he saw the sight of a slim brunette, in shorts and a tank top, hair in a ponytail trying to do something over the entry system. Suspicious, the closer he got, he saw she was trying to pry off the cover with some sort of tool he didn't recognize.

"Do you mind my asking what you're doing?" he asked.

The girl straightened up in surprise and spun around.

"You scared me!" she accused.

"You haven't answered the question."

"Why is it any of your business?" she replied

"Well, first of all, I live here and second of all, I'm a detective," replied Flack.

The girl wiped her hand on her shorts and held it out.

"Then I'm pleased to meet you neighbor," she said, "I'm Rebecca Rhodes. Apartment 3B."

Flack took her hand and shook it, noticing that it was slightly hardened, as though she was used to working with her hands. He smiled.

"Don Flack. 3D. So you're Hook," he said.

"Huh?"

"The super was fixing a big hook into the ceiling of your place a few days ago and we were wondering what it was for."

"Oh, that. It's for my punch bag. I do a form of martial arts to stay fit and unwind. "

Flack was surprised. She didn't look the type.

"You still didn't answer my question," he said, gesturing at the entry system.

"Oh, I was just trying to put my name next to my apartment number."

"Fair enough," he grinned.

"I think I need to find a screwdriver," she said ruefully looking at the trowel in her hand.

"Ok Hook, catch you around," said Flack, heading past her through the open door.

"Oh, and detective?" Rebecca said.

"Yeah?" Flack said, turning to faced her.

"If you don't call me Hook, I won't call you Irish!" she grinned.

Flack smiled.

"Irish?" he asked.

"It's the blue eyes that gives it away," smiled Rebecca, "I think I'm gonna try one more time then try find that screwdriver."

She turned back to her task and started humming. Flack recognized Peter Gabriel's _Red Rain_ as he walked away. He smiled. Living in this block was starting to look up.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, except Rebecca Rhodes**

**Chapter 2: Brand New**

Flack smiled to himself as he lifted a bottle of beer to his lips. He'd gotten a good look at his new neighbor while she'd been messing with the entry system. Pretty, slim, but with curves in all the right places, although the tank top had hid most of her top half. But the legs – the legs were just right; long. The long dark hair and brown eyes were a definite bonus he mused. Damn she was distracting, even keeping his mind of the Knicks game he was trying to watch.

Then he had an idea – a brilliant one. Finishing his beer, he headed out of the door.

Two minutes later, he found himself knocking on the door of 3B

"Just a minute!" called Rebecca. Flack heard the sound of bolts being drawn back, before the door opened. "Hey Irish! Come on in!"

Rebecca looked hot, her skin covered in a light sheen of perspiration. She patted her face with a small towel. She had changed into workout gear that left even less to Flack's already overactive imagination. Her face was flushed.

"So, Irish, what's up? I was just kicking the crap out of the bag."

"Hey," said Flack, "I was just, uh, wondering if you wanted to come over and watch the Knicks game. I mean, if you have plans and all."

"Only for yet more unpacking," said Rebecca, waving her hand around the apartment to where there were still packed cartons everywhere.

Looking around, Flack saw that aside from a coffee machine on the kitchen counter, an open laptop on a small table in the window space and the over-sized punch bag hanging from the new hook in the ceiling, there were boxes everywhere. He could see the same state in her bedroom through the open door, where a lamp was perched on a box and it looked like a bomb had hit it.

"Why don't you come over," he said, smiling persuasively, "I do a mean beer and chips and I can even call out for pizza. I mean, it doesn't look like you've even unpacked the kitchen yet!", he said waving towards the kitchen.

Rebecca put her head on one side and crossed her arms.

"Tempting, Irish, but I need to shower first. I have some beers in the refrigerator and I'll be over in ten."

"Ok," said Flack, "I'll call for pizza. Any preferences?"

"Only for pepperoni, extra pepperoni on the top!" she said, "Can you let yourself out?"

"Sure. See you soon," said Flack.

**CSINYCSINY CSINYCSINY CSINYCSINY CSINYCSINY CSINYCSINY**

Flack didn't know when his mind had been less on a game and more on his company. Rebecca was sat on the other side of his couch, feet crossed underneath her, beer in hand. She was dressed in jeans and another tank, sleeveless this time, in a soft fabric that clung to her. The remains of their pizza was on the floor, although neither had drunk much. Flack cleared his throat.

"So, what do you do, Hook?" he asked, thinking that he should make some conversation.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," she replied, with a smile on her.

"Try me," he encouraged.

"Ok, you asked for it!" she conceded, "I'm a forensic anthropologist. I study bodies. My specialty is looking at remains with wounds. I also studied forensic archaeology at school and minored in psychology."

"Wow," said Flack, thinking there was more to this girl than met the eye, "So what brings a forensic archaeologist, with an interest in martial arts and vandalizing private property doing in New York?"

"New job," she said, taking a handful of chips and tipping them into her mouth, "My parents weren't pleased I moved back here."

"How come?"

"My parents live in D.C.," she said, "Dad's a busy attorney with extremely well-off clients, who is really pissed at my new job, which he thinks is beneath us and Mother is a society shopaholic who thinks her only daughter is letting the side down. I have an older brother, Harrison, he's the perfect one." Rebecca's eyes hardened and she took another swig of her beer.

"Hang on, you have a career and a job and they have issues?"

"Dad thinks I should have stayed at the Jeffersonian, or at the very least, gone to the FBI. He knows a lot of people and he set up an interview at Quantico for me. I got it, but I wasn't interested."

"And your Mom?"

"Mother is always disappointed. I was not blond and blue-eyed like the rest of them. I did not do a feminine subject," she said making the imaginary quote marks move, "I had two left feet, so dance class was a bust and I talked my figure skating coach into letting me take hockey classes instead. Plus, I haven't married any of her rich society friends' really boring sons."

Flack laughed. "Chalk and cheese, huh?" he said.

"We're all convinced I got swapped for the real Rebecca at the hospital," said Rebecca, "They're furious I moved back to New York for a job. They think it's totally blue collar. But, I have my own money from my Grandma and plus, I went to school in the Big Apple and I loved it here!"

"I don't know you that well yet, but I think D.C.'s loss could be New York's gain," he said, taking a drink from his bottle.

Rebecca stretched and stood, moving gracefully and stretching her back.

"Don, this has been great, but I really gotta get back to trying to sort out my bomb-site of an apartment."

"Sure," said Flack, a little disappointed the evening was coming to an end so early. He got up too and showed her to the door.

"I had a nice time," said Rebecca, "Next time I hope the Knicks win, although basketball isn't my favorite sport!

"Let me guess," said Flack, "Hockey?"

"Yup," said Rebecca grinning, "I've been a Rangers fan since I was a college student! See ya!"

And with that, Flack was treated to the sight of Rebecca sashaying down the hall back to her own place. He watched till she was safely indoors, being the good cop that he was, before he went back to his couch to watch the post-game analysis.

Living in the block had definitely taken a look up.

**CSINYCSINY CSINYCSINY CSINYCSINY CSINYCSINY CSINYCSINY**

Monday morning came and Don ran into Rebecca on his way out the door. She was dressed casually, in track shoes, a Rangers cap and a backpack over her running gear.

"Hey Rebecca," he said, smiling, "Going for a run?"

She smiled. "Yeah, sort of," she said, "I'm off to work. I'm gonna run through the park."

"You sure I can't give you a ride," he said hopefully.

"Nah. I like to run in the morning, helps clear my head." She said.

"OK," said Flack, "I might join you one of these days!"

"Yeah right!" said Rebecca, taking off down the stairs. As she got to the sidewalk, she stretched for another couple of minutes, a sight Flack took the time to appreciate, before taking off running in the general direction of Central Park. Flack tossed his car keys into his other hand and headed to his car.

**CSINYCSINY CSINYCSINY CSINYCSINY CSINYCSINY CSINYCSINY**

The team was all in the break room, grabbing coffee before the start of the shift. Danny was tired, as he'd been on call the previous night and he's been called out to a scene in the early hours. Besides, Mac had asked them to gather, as he was bringing the new CSI in to meet them before taking her to do some essential paperwork and get her ID, badge and gun. Stella and Hawkes were discussing _Dancing with the Stars_ for some reason, Hawkes being a little sarcastic about men dancing in sequins, while the ever-graceful Stella was making some dance moves with her upper body. Danny and Adam were analyzing the Knicks game. Then Mac – and a pretty brunette – walked in.

"Good morning everybody," said Mac, "I'd like to introduce you all to Dr Rebecca Rhodes, our new CSI. We're very lucky to have her here. She used to work at the Jeffersonian in analysis, with Dr Temperance Brennan's team."

The team all said hi and Rebecca acknowledged them all with a nod and shy smile.

"I'm taking Rebecca to get processed and her ID. After that, I thought you could get to work with Danny. He's the lead on a case you might find interesting."

"Sure," said Rebecca, smiling at Danny. Danny grinned back, thinking he was sure he'd seen her somewhere before. Then Mac took her off and the team went off to the day's tasks.

**CSINYCSINY CSINYCSINY CSINYCSINY CSINYCSINY CSINYCSINY**

Later, Danny was back at the scene where the PD had found some more evidence. Rebecca wasn't finished with personnel, so Danny had headed to the scene alone.

"So, I hear on the grapevine there's a new CSI," said Flack, leaning against a tree watching Danny bagging evidence.

"Yeah," said Danny, "And if I wasn't a happily married man, I might take a second look. She's seriously hot, man. Maybe I should introduce her to you!"

"Always my wingman, huh Danny?" said Flack, laughing.

"Nah, more like you were always mine!" said Danny in reply. He stood, finished with his collecting. "Actually, I think I've seen her before at some lecture that was being given on forensics, yeah, that's it, last year's conference. This chick took the place of some keynote speaker who called away on a case and she took the job. I have to admit," he said shaking his head, grinning at the memory, "If memory serves, that was just pre-Lindsey and I don't think I took in one word she was saying, I was distracted by her figure!"

"Really?" said Flack, "So did you get lucky?"

"No," said Danny, "She had to leave right after the conference, so I never got to work the Messer magic on her. But I'm a happily married family man now."

"Yeah!"

"Yeah, she's highly respected in her field, so it'll be good to have her around. She'll be joining us this afternoon processing. You should swing by the lab. I'll introduce you."

"You trying to set me up, Messer?

"You know it Flack!"

**CSINYCSINY CSINYCSINY CSINYCSINY CSINYCSINY CSINYCSINY**

Back at the lab later that day, Flack headed down the corridor to find Danny. Danny had called him telling him they had some interesting news on the case; the body of the girl found the previous night in Central Park. Walking past the glass offices, he saw Danny and his new partner bent over the microscope. He turned into the room.

"Hey Danny, what's up?" he said.

Danny turned to see him standing in the doorway.

"Hey Flack, yeah, something interesting came up that might be important. Dusty, this is Flack, Flack, this is Dusty," said Danny.

The brunette straightened and turned to Flack with a grin on her face.

"Hey Irish," said Rebecca.

**Can I just say thanks to everyone who's reviewed already! I have an idea of where this is going, but if there's anything you'd like to see, let me know! And, I know, I'm mean leaving it there!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Don't Ask For Trouble**

**Disclaimer: The usual: nothing, nada is mine except the beautiful, talented and sassy Dr Rhodes**

**I think we maybe need to get inside our home-girl's head, huh?!**

"Hey Irish!" said Rebecca.

"Irish?" said Danny to Flack.

"Dusty?" replied Flack.

Rebecca was thinking Flack scrubbed up well, in his work suit. She was thinking it showed his fine figure off. He leaned against the door frame grinning at her, taking a slow look up and down her body. She felt a slow flush begin on her face.

"Danny – you gotta explain Dusty to me. We already call her Hook," said Flack.

Danny looked confused for all of two seconds, before realizing Flack and Rebecca had obviously met before. He was also noticing the reaction they were having on each other. Boom, he thought, no need to give them a helping hand of Messer magic then.

"Well, her surname is Rhodes, Dusty Rhodes. Get it?" said Danny, "Now, you," he said pointing at Flack, "had better explain Hook."

"The super fitted a huge hook in the ceiling of her apartment for her full length punchbag," replied Flack.

"So this Dusty Hook moved into your building, huh?" said Danny, thinking he couldn't _wait_ to get a new pool running on this two.

"Excuse me," said Rebecca, "I hate to call a halt to a great analytical discussion of the nicknames you guys have given me, but first of all, I prefer Becca and second of all, the case in hand gentlemen?"

Both men turned all their attention onto Rebecca, who called up a few pictures on screen.

"Flack, this is why we called you," she said, "It's only a preliminary finding, but I noticed there are some similarities with this case and a few unsolved homicides that were referred to the Jeffersonian last year. I'll speak to Mac to get his permission to contact them. I think the analysis we did up there could prove useful."

Flack was all attention. He moved closer to Rebecca to get a better look at the computer screen. Rebecca could feel the heat radiating from his body. Managing it, the finally wrenched her mind away from some interesting pictures that were forming in her mind, she pointed out that the body of the victim had been positioned very carefully, in specific surroundings. A few more clicks of the mouse and they were comparing crime scene photos of four more cases. The places were different, but the positioning of the bodies was the same and similar landmarks were near – a statue, a fountain and always a specific distance from the nearest path. From the look on their faces, Rebecca could tell both the men were impressed.

"I'm gonna call Mac," said Danny, "And let him know we have a possible serial killer at large. That's good work kiddo, on your first day."

Rebecca turned to Flack, catching her breath slightly as he turned and looked at her with his deep blue eyes.

"We haven't been down to the Morgue yet. Hawkes is still analyzing the body, but I suspect we're gonna find that the injuries in this case are similar to the previous ones. I only minored in psychology, but it looks like this guy has a very specific MO."

Flack nodded. "Well call me when you know any more." His phone rang. He answered it, spoke briefly and hung up.

"Dispatch called, we got another homicide. I gotta go."

"Hey, Flack, you wanna shoot some hoops later?" asked Danny.

"Precinct gym?" Flack replied.

"Yeah. I'll bring our newbie down and maybe show her some of the light workout stuff the girls like," said Danny.

Rebecca was a little taken aback and guessed Flack hadn't told him about her fitness regime. Flack stifled a laugh in a cough. Danny looked from one to another, realizing they knew something he didn't.

"I'm gonna head to the morgue," said Rebecca, quickly exiting before she broke into outright laughter.

"I'll catch you later," said Flack, making an equally swift exit in the opposite direction.

Danny looked after the two of them. Through the glass walls, he could see Stella and Adam heading to the coffee room. Grinning, he headed there himself. He could feel a new pool coming on, betting the time frame it would take for Flack to make a move on this girl.

**CSINYCSINY CSINYCSINY CSINYCSINY CSINYCSINY CSINYCSINYCSINY**

_Later that afternoon_

The gym had quite a few PD officers in it, when the trio of Danny, Flack and Rebecca walked in. Flack and Danny were wearing NYPD t-shirts and track pants, while Rebecca had put her running gear back on, as she hadn't brought any gym wear. Danny decided that self-defense was the best way to start Rebecca off and started running through a few moves. He missed the exchange of glances between his colleagues. Rebecca saw the amused smile on Flack's face and grinned in reply. Fortunately, Danny missed the exchange.

"Becca, why don't you try and throw me," he said, "It's kind of hard, but you'll pick it up."

"Ok," said Becca, who promptly carried out a few, swift, well-practiced moves and before Danny knew it, he was face down on the mat, winded, unable to get his arm out of a very strong vice hold. The whole gym had gone silent and most people had stopped what they were doing to watch them.

"Do you give?" asked Rebecca.

"Yeah, yeah, I give," said Danny.

She released him and he got up to see Flack laughing outright.

"Why do I think I've been had by you two?" Danny asked.

"I'm sorry buddy, I just couldn't resist," said Flack, "Becca may look like a defenseless ice princess, but she told me she's into martial arts." "And hockey," he added as an afterthought.

Danny cocked his head to one side and looked at Rebecca with a new light of appreciation in his eyes.

"You gonna show me some of your moves?" he asked.

"I thought you'd never ask," she said grinning, "I'd take you on again, but you're just two damn easy!"

"I am not easy, I just wasn't expecting your moves," said Danny.

"You mean smacked down by a girl!" said Rebecca. Flack cleared his throat. Both turned to look at him.

"So you want a piece of this, Irish?" asked Rebecca, with a little thrill running hrough her at her own bold words.

"Sure," said Flack, trying to put an indecent thought, that he shouldn't be having about his colleague and neighbor out of his head.

Danny grinned. Flack had more successful take downs of perps than anyone else at the 3-5 and he had a feeling that the newbie might just have bitten off more than she could chew. This was gonna be fun to watch – if Flack could keep his head and not get distracted by that nice figure.

Rebecca smoothed her hair back from her damp, flushed face and assumed the position, crouching slightly, bouncing from side to side. By this point, everyone else in the gym had stopped what they were doing to watch the duo. Danny could hear some of the precinct laying bets – Flack or the girl. Flack shot a glance at his audience; it irritated him that his fellow officers were openly appreciating his neighbor's lithe figure. He concentrated on his opponent and rubbed his hands a couple of times, before drying off the sweat on his track pants.

"So, kid, you ready to lose?" he asked. Rebecca smiled wickedly.

"Oh no, Irish," she said, "You are so going _down_!"

And with that they were off, Flack easily rebuffing some of her moves, while Rebecca did a fairly impressive job of dodging some of his. It was clear that their audience were taking sides, some shouting encouragement to Rebecca and some cheering on their own man. Finally, a little out of breath, like Rebecca, Flack made a mistake. With a look of triumph, Rebecca made her move and brought him down.

"So Irish," she asked, "How does it feel to be on the wrong end of a smack down?" she asked, before realizing her grip was off.

She swore, but not before Flack had seized the opportunity and rolled her, pinning her to the mat. Both of them were breathing heavily, slick with sweat from their workout. Both of them were uncomfortably aware of how close they were to each other. Flack looked deep into Rebecca's brown eyes.

"Now this," he said softly, "is the wrong end of a smack down."

"Did I say I was going to play fair?" replied Rebecca, making a move that caused him a little pain, but forced him to release her.

Danny was standing there clapping his hands at the display. The rest of their audience were cheering and whooping and Rebecca noticed quite a lot of money changing hands. She turned to Flack and extended her hand to help him up. He took it and stood.

"So the newest member of New York's finest is a blue-blooded princess who likes to fight dirty," said Danny, "Man that was funny. Flack's never been beaten before. Man you are going to get some grief!" he said, laughing and shaking his head.

"What the hell was that?" he asked, rubbing his ribs, where she's managed to deliver her blow.

"Krav Maga, the Israeli Defense Force's defense martial arts. No rules and dirty fighting," replied Rebecca, "I took classes one semester at a community center."

Danny put his arm around her shoulders.

"So, sweetheart, are there any other sports you're interested in sharing with us?"

"Only hockey!" said Rebecca, grinning.

**CSINYCSINY CSINYCSINYCSINY CSINYCSINY CSINYCSINY CSINYCSINY**

After showering off, the three went back to the lab to collect their gear. Danny suggested they all adjourn to Sullivan's to celebrate both Rebecca's good first day _and_ her take-down of Flack, which was fast becoming a legend, although Flack suggested those who took the mick take Rebecca on to see how they'd do. The whole team, bar Mac, who was working late, all came along too. Once they were all seated in a booth, Stella raised her glass.

"To Rebecca, welcome to New York's finest," she said.

"To New York's finest," they all chorused.

And just then, Shakira's _Objection (Tango) _came on the jukebox. Rebecca stood and held her hand out to Danny.

"I owe you," she said, "Wanna dance?"

Danny accepted. Flack felt a spark of jealousy shoot through him, even though he knew Danny would never mess around on Lindsey, but as he saw them take to the small dance floor with the few other couples around, he couldn't help but wish it was him.

**To be continued! I am sooooo mean! Thank you all so much for your reviews and adds – I'm really touched and honored. Please let me know if there's anything you want me to work in! I may not post again for a couple of days, as I'm on nights and pretty tired…. xoxo**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Let's Dance**

**This one's for all of you who are probably thinking I didn't put in nearly enough of Flack's jealousy. In my defense, I had just come off of night shift and my brain was shutting down towards the end….Duh!**

**So some more explanation (and hopefully my brain won't die before the end again!)**

**Thx for all the reviews – keep 'em coming and let me know if there's anything you want to see!**

**And yeah, I promise I ****will**** get to the Bones stuff eventually**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my girl Rebecca, though y'all probably realized I wish that I do ******

**CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY**

Rebecca was really enjoying dancing with Danny. For one thing, he was a good dancer and for another, even though he really wasn't her type, he was pretty cute. Mind you, she suspected ulterior motives when she saw him glance quickly at Flack, before whirling her into some more spins and bending her backwards on the dance floor, not to mention the fact that some of those moves were _definitely_ revenge for her kicking his ass at the gym. Danny, thought Rebecca, was obviously going to be one pain-in-the-ass co-worker, but someone she could always rely on to watch her six. She was also starting to think he was gonna be a really good friend. After nearly tripping her up, causing them both to laugh, she called a time out and headed to the ladies' room. Danny sauntered back to the booth, with more than a little swagger.

"Ya know Stella," he said, "I think the newbie's gonna give you a run for your money on being the lab's best dancer."

"Maybe," Stella acknowledged, "Or maybe we should just start Dancing with the Stars: NYPD."

"What _is_ it with you and that show?" asked Hawkes, "I'm going to the bar. Anyone for another drink?"

They put their orders in and Adam went with him to help bring the beers back. Stella, Danny and a cold-eyed Flack were left at the table.

"Flack," said Stella teasingly, "You're gonna make that bottle shatter if you hold on to it any tighter."

Flack released his fingers slightly, realizing his knuckles had gone white with the effort. He was glaring at Danny. He told himself he was angry with his best friend for putting the moves on another woman when Lindsey was at home with their kid. He told himself it had nothing to do with the jealousy of watching Rebecca dancing with anyone else. He liked Lindsey and Danny having been his wingman since, like forever, was not gonna get in the way of his reading Messer the riot act on good and moral behavior, like the good catholic boys they used to pretend to their mamas they were.

"You shouldn't mess around on Lindsey," Flack said softly, fixing his eyes on Danny's.

"We were just dancin'," replied Danny, an amused smirk on his face

"Naw, you were _dancin'_," said Flack grimly, "What about Lindsey? The mother of your kid?"

Stella smiled into her glass. She was mindful of a little subject Danny had brought up in the break room about NYPD's finest homicide detective and the prettiest new CSI recruit. She had money on later, for what it was worth.

"Aw, C'mon Don, how long have you known me?" said Danny, "I am a one-woman man, I love my wife and our kid. I ain't never doing anything to break that." He took a swig of his beer.

"I just owed her for whooping my ass," he said, looking at Flack slyly, "Plus, I wanted to see if it would get you hot under the collar some."

Stella choked on her drink. Danny had a habit of showing red rags to a bull and sometimes his sense of humor left a lot to be desired, but _damn_, this was funny. She made a mental note to call Lindsey and tell her about this little Flack-Rebecca development.

Just at that moment, Rebecca reappeared at the table. Flack stood up. He realized he had to get them outta there before Danny said or did something even more embarrassing, like mention he thought the two of them should get married or something.

"You wanna go?" he said roughly.

"Yeah, OK," said Rebecca, a little surprised.

Flack had never steered someone outta Sully's so fast.

**CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY**

Their walk back to their bulding in the dark evening was kinda quiet, Rebecca thought. Flack was totally silent. Rebecca wondered what could have happened in the bar to make him want to get out of there so quickly. She had a pretty good idea it had something to do with Danny. She made a mental note to ask Stella about it the next day. After all, a detective of her grade had pretty good analytical and observational skills.

As they reached the steps, Flack stopped and put his hand on her arm to stop her from walking up the stoop. She caught her breath at the slight contact and hoped he hadn't noticed.

"Look," he said, "I don't mean to sound like I'm some kinda asshole, but you do know Danny's with someone, right?"

The he cursed himself inwardly for sounding like a total jerk. Rebecca smiled. She put her hand on his arm.

"Don," she replied, smiling, "You have absolutely nothing to worry about."

_She called me Don was his first thought. His second was that __**he**__ had nothing to worry about. What the hell did that mean?_

"I get that Danny and Lindsey are good friends of yours. From all the baby pictures he showed me today, that man is just gone on his wife. Danny's feisty, but he just isn't my type," Rebecca continued.

_But what is, wondered Flack._

"And I don't do attached anyway. He was just getting me back for losing in the gym. I think there might be more to it, but I don't know what other motives he had," she finished.

They reached her door first. Flack paused, not really wanting to end the evening. He reached out and gently smoothed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Rebecca tried and failed to suppress the shiver that ran through her. She stepped back a little.

"Uh, goodnight Don," she said, a little breathlessly, before opening her door.

"I'll see you in the morning," he replied. He waited until she'd locked her door before heading down the corridor to his own place.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the door, Rebecca pressed her hot forehead to the cool paintwork as she listened to his steps moving away from her door.

"_Damn,"_ she thought, _"This could REALLY get out of hand!"_

**CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY**

Rebecca was having a very good dream.

_She's dancing, much like last night, except she's not dancing with Danny, she's dancing with Flack. They're not in the bar, they're alone somewhere with some sexy music playing. In her over-active imagination, he's wearing a white wife-beater and she can see his muscles rippling every time he spun her, each time just a little too hard, just enough to make her slightly off balance until, finally, she slams into that hard, hot chest. She can imagine the heat radiating from him, the way he takes control, bending her backwards in a classic tango move, trailing his fingers down the front of her neck towards her cleavage; his fingers biting into her hips as he dances behind her, his hot breath on her shoulder. And just then, his grip tightens He pulls her towards him and lowers his face to hers and she knows it's gonna happen, when…"_

…..Rebecca's alarm goes off waking her from her not-so-restful slumber. Her eyes snapped open and she realized she was one hot and bothered woman, all tangled up in her sheets. _Man_, she thought, _she had it __**bad.**_

**CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY**

A very brisk cold shower later had Rebecca bouncing out of her apartment, down the steps and out of the door to their building, only for her to groan inwardly at the sight of last night's dream subject standing waiting for her, dressed in track shoes, shorts and a navy NYPD t-shirt; an outfit that left little to Rebecca's increasingly active imagination. From the look of it, he'd decided to run with her today. Rebecca swallowed **hard** and hoped the run would take her mind of her delectably formed running companion.

"Hey Flack," she said, with false brightness.

**CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY**

**OK, so I was writing this on the night shift. I wasn't going to end it there, but hey, a girl's got to leave something to the imagination! ******** The words just seem to come soooo easy at the moment, so I'm just going to go along for the ride! Let me know what you think! Thx for all the adds! ****MrAprilfoolsWatanuki**** – this descriptive enough????**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: Hit between the eyes?**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, except a pretty girl with brown hair and brown eyes. The people that DO own the rest are **_**gods among men (and women)**_**.**

**Sorry for the gap – work + uni - lack of sleep = no recent postings!**

**I **_**love**_** my reviews! Thanx so much!**

**CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY**

"_Hey Flack!" said Rebecca, with false brightness._

Another cute outfit, thought Flack. He wondered if Rebecca had got as little sleep as he had, which was why he was here, waiting on her to come down, instead of enjoying his morning breakfast rictual at the local diner; decent coffee, eggs or something, plus a quick look at the paper.

But no, here he was, waiting for his neighbor, about to run to work with her through the park.

He told himself she was just encouraging good habits in him, making sure he didn't get the Twinkie stomach lots of good cops got when they weren't too much older than him.

No, it had nothing to do with wanting to see her again. Or that dream he'd had about her dancing last night.

Well, partly dancing, partly a one-on-one in an empty gym that had ended up way too personal. Hot summer mornings needed cold showers, he mused.

He smiled at Rebecca as she came down the steps.

"Race?" he asked.

**CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY**

Rebecca set a fast pace, so fast Flack wondered if she was trying to set some sort of personal best. He kept pace easily – well when you had to chase down some of the toughest sons of b****es in NYC, you had to stay on your toes and Flack always got his man. Or woman, for that matter.

Aside from the odd banter or quick water break, the pair concentrated on their running, rather than conversation. Flack appreciated that Rebecca was an athlete – she obviously was on the track team at one point and he made a mental note to ask her about that, as well as why she was into such a bad-ass form of martial arts.

In no time at all, they were at the precinct, their entry into the building being noticed by quite a few people.

Stephanie, the blond receptionist, who had quite a thing for Flack lifted the phone and dialed a number.

"Detective Messer?" she said.

"_Yeah?" _the voice on the other end of the phone said.

"I want to change that date on the pool."

**CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY**

The thing, thought Rebecca, about setting a fast pace on a run meant you had an excuse to focus and not make idle conversation. The other thing about a fast pace was supposed to be that you concentrated solely on putting one foot in front of the other and _not_ about your morning's running partner helping massage a cramp or running you down or catching you or anything else liable to get your pulse raising even faster than a cardio work-out.

Unfortunately, Rebecca had found the previous night's dream running through her head as quick as she was running through the park. Rebecca did not want to admit that part of the pace she had set was her trying to get some distance on Flack, mentally and physically. It had not helped, his running beside her. She had almost been able to feel the heat from his body, not to mention his lovely scent.

Arriving at the precinct, she'd noticed quite a few exchanged glances at the sight of the two of them arriving together. When they'd gotten to the locker room, they had headed to the separate showers. As the water poured over her, Rebecca _tried_ not to think about one handsome, fit cop doing the same thing she was in a stall not too far from where she was standing. And failed miserably. Wrapping a towel around her, shivering slightly from the blast of freezing water she had just been under after yanking the temperature control down some, she stepped into the locker room, only to take three paces back and swallow, her mouth going dry.

_Suit be damned,_ she thought. _And I thought his running gear left nothing to the imagination._

Nothing, as it turned out, was quite so distracting as the sight of Flack, wearing nothing more than a towel, grabbing a clean outfit from his locker, while drying off the last drops of water from his hair and torso.

And all the scars did was make him seem, well, more _manly_, thought Rebecca.

**CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY**

The rest of the day had passed in a bit of a blur. Rebecca had had a video conference with her old colleagues from the Jeffersonian.

She'd had to put up with Danny and Adam engaging in some juvenile one-up-manship with Dr Hodgins and their current grad student, a young man Rebecca didn't recognize. Her good friend Angela, of course, had kept butting in to ask Rebecca how things were, if she had a new boyfriend and what her other colleagues were like, before she'd been called away by Dr Lance Sweets. Dr Brennan, of course, had not been there. She was out in the field with Agent Booth, as always. _Now what was going on there?_ Wondered Rebecca. They had managed, eventually, to have a good discussion about the case in hand.

The conference call had ended with Hodgins promising to email the lab all the findings from the 3 cases in D.C. that seemed suspiciously like the one in New York. He'd also promised to get Cam, their boss, to call Mac and the ME's office to compare notes on the bodies themselves, although copies of the knife impressions and Hodgins' meticulous analysis would probably be of more help.

And they had temporarily put the case on hold, as they had done all the work they could.

**CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY**

A couple of weeks went by. The hot weather continued and all of a sudden all the crazies came out to play and the lab was rushed off of its feet with cases. Rebecca occasionally ran into Flack at Sully's, but for the most part she was working long hours trying to deal with some of the case load and they seemed to be on opposite shifts, so she never saw him around the building. OK, she thought, if she was being _really_ honest, she was avoiding him. Off the clock, if she wasn't exhausted, she was running. She just couldn't seem to keep that sexy Irish cop out of her mind, awake or not. Her dreams just kept on coming.

**CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY**

Watching the Giants playing, Flack was trying to keep his mind on the sports action on the TV and not on the imaginary action he seemed to have playing in his head on a pretty constant basis about his neighbor.

Flack had been really trying, on the few occasions they had been anywhere near each other, not to look at any part of a certain new CSI's anatomy, either on a scene, in the precinct gym or in the lab. In fact, he'd caught himself beating a hasty retreat from the AV lab, Trace, the morgue or anywhere in fact that he might be caught demonstrating frank appreciation for the sight of her body bent over anything, leaning over anything, stretching…..

He had knocked up her door a couple of times, trying to figure out good excuses as to _why_ he was at her door in the first place, but she hadn't been in.

He ran his hand through his hair, unable to concentrate. If he was honest, she was the first, last and every-damn-minute-in-between constant thought in his head, except when he managed to actually do some work. And judging from the state he was waking up in more mornings than not, whether he remembered his dreams or not, she was obviously in his every _unconscious_ thought also.

Flack tried to tell himself that the hot New York summer weather was to blame for him needing so many cold showers.

**CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY**

**I know, I know, not much plot development here and I think I need to edit…not a good chapter all in all…I'm a little out of my comfort zone here. Things are going to move along soon, promise!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: So Damn Hot!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, bar my OC**

**If anyone's noticed the song titles, I don't own them either, but have fun tracking them down and using them as a soundtrack….**

**CSINYCSINYCSINYCSINYCSINYCSINYC CSINYCSINYCSINYCSINYCSINY**

It had been a while since they'd worked a scene together, Flack mused, when he pulled up sharp outside the drugstore downtown. A murder/robbery had been called in. He saw the CSI SUV already parked there, Mac and Rebecca standing against the bonnet waiting for him. Mac looked cool, even with the heat of the day. Rebecca looked, well, warm.

"Finally," she snapped, grabbing her equipment bag and heading into the darkness of the store.

Mac raised his eyebrows.

"Anything I should know about?" he asked.

"Nothing I know about. Maybe it's just that she's not used to a New York August?" proffered Flack, taken aback by her reaction to him.

In the coolness of the store, Rebecca opened her bag and snapped on a pair of gloves, inwardly cursing herself for giving her frustration away. She busied herself with the task in hand and started dusting for prints. A shadow fell over her and she looked up to see Mac standing beside her.

"If you're all right in here, I need to go into the alleyway to look at the entrance there," he said, "Uniform found some evidence of lock tampering and forced entrance by the stairs into the storeroom downstairs. I'll go process down there. You keep going here. Flack will keep you company."

"Are you sure, Mac?" said Rebecca, "I haven't processed a scene solo yet."

"I wouldn't leave you to do it yourself if I didn't think you were ready Rebecca," replied Mac firmly, "I'll be right out the back. Call me if you need me, alright?"

Rebecca nodded affirmation, inwardly groaning that the most distracting man in New York was only going to be a few feet away from her. Distraction was all she needed while she was trying to process her first solo scene. She had to be with the boss too, so she really needed NOT to screw up. So she focused on bagging the evidence and paying meticulous attention to detail. Which was probably why she didn't notice movement near her.

Flack made some attempts at small talk, all the time trying not to stare too much at his colleague. She made monosyllabic replies, if at all.

_I gotta get to the bottom of this,_ _he thought_, _she seems real riled up by something._

He was too busy focusing on Rebecca to notice the movement from behind her, by the stairs in the back of the store till it was too late. Rebecca made a noise, noticing the entrance of the two men into the front of the store and got up, immediately putting herself in their way.

_What the…? Thought Flack, pulling his badge_

Before he knew it, Rebecca had been served a nasty backhander to the face, causing her to stumble and fall, hitting her head against the counter, causing her to cry out in pain, swearing a little. Flack had pulled his gun, but not before he'd been rushed by the two men, causing him to lose his gun. They were obviously the perps and had been trapped, hiding downstairs when the uniforms arrived on the scene. Flack guessed, as he struggled with the two of them, that Mac had disturbed them. He struggled with one of them, kicking to stop him from hurting him too bad, while he struggled with the other to stop him from getting his gun. The next thing he knew, he only had one bad guy to deal with. He heard a nasty thwack and both he and the guy he was trying to overpower looked around to see Rebecca, her hard-shell evidence bag in hand, standing over the other perp, who was by now out cold on the floor. She looked pretty pissed, thought Flack.

Rebecca yelled for uniforms. Flack had just about overpowered the other guy, when he punched Flack in the ribs, causing Flack to let go of him. Then next thing he knew, he had been tripped by Rebecca, who had him face down on the floor with his arm twisted behind his back. Flack picked himself off the floor, dusted his jacket off and found his cuffs. He cuffed the perp.

"Bitch!" said the low-life, "I'm gonna get you for that!"

"Yeah?" replied Rebecca, "You and whose army."

Flack snapped the cuffs into place as the uniforms piled through the door to assist, Mac following by running up the stairs. As Flack roughly pulled the first man to his feet and handed him over to a couple of uniforms, the second man came to and groggily got to his feet, attempting to make his own run for it. Rebecca dealt with him as swiftly as the first, pushing him against the counter and then forcing him back onto the floor. She held his arm in a grip as she found her own handcuffs.

"When I put you down," she said to him angrily, "I suggest you _stay_ down!"

The uniforms hauled the two perps out of the store and Flack turned to see Rebecca put her hand to the corner of her swollen mouth and nose. She looked at her hand and grimaced at the slight trace of blood that came away. Flack pulled out a handkerchief and walked over to her. He took her face in one hand and gently turned it upwards, toward the light. He dabbed at the slight ooze coming from her nose. She flinched a little at the contact.

"Sorry," said Flack, "Sore?"

"Just a little," she replied, "I'll need an ice pack, but it's nothing that won't heal in a couple of days.

"Hey," Flack said softly. Rebecca's eyes met his questioningly.

"Thanks for the assist."

Rebecca shrugged. "It was nothing," she said, "It just really pissed me off that they were both taking you on. It wasn't fair."

She smiled slightly.

"I think they might think twice before messing with a woman again though!"

Flack smiled at that. Rebecca had looked seriously angry when he'd seen her brandishing her case as a weapon. He didn't like to think of the force she's used to swipe him across the back of the head. He thought the guy would probably have a headache for a few days.

**CSINYCSINYCSINYCSINYCSINYCSINYC CSINYCSINYCSINYCSINYCSINY**

Back at the lab, Rebecca's busy day got even worse as she had to process the evidence from the scene, while a headache started from where she's hit her head on the scene. Her lip was throbbing from where she'd been hit, but she'd already been told that the perps were at least going down for assaulting an officer and hopefully more, once she was able to link their DNA and the evidence to the murder and robbery. Apparently they'd been high.

She'd been pretty snappy all day, probably due to the stress of the day, so most of the lab techs were giving her a wide berth. The other CSIs had been out on their own cases all morning. Rebecca was regretting pulling so many doubles over the last few days, even though it had ensured she saw as little of Flack as possible.

_Not that avoiding him helps_, she thought, _it just makes me cranky._

She rubbed her head where a bump was starting to form, wincing as she touched a tender spot. She turned as she heard someone clearing their throat to find Mac standing there, looking concerned.

"Are you all right?" he asked. He'd suggested she go home after what happened, but she'd chosen to stay, to ensure the evidence was processed. It was now late and Rebecca hadn't taken much of a break since she'd got back.

"I'm fine Mac," replied Rebecca, "I just need some aspirin and an ice pack once I get home and I'll be OK."

"Well you've done excellent work on processing so far today. Leave the rest till tomorrow and don't come in till later." He said.

"Aw Mac," replied Rebecca, "I can't do that. There's too much to do. I'll need to process the evidence from the body tomorrow!"

"I will do that," Mac said firmly, "Now, go home Rebecca. That's an order."

Reluctantly, Rebecca cleared her desk and locked the evidence up, before heading to the locker room. She noticed it was dark outside. Opening her locker, she decided to run home through the park. A run might clear her head, she thought.

**CSINYCSINYCSINYCSINYCSINYCSINYC CSINYCSINYCSINYCSINYCSINY**

Flack got off shift a short while later. He'd worked a double too and hadn't much enjoyed spending most of it in an unconditioned interrogation room with the couple of assholes from the morning, who, while still high had made all kinds of wise-cracks about Rebecca, before getting really antsy and un-cooperative when they'd started coming down. It had been a trying day. Walking down the corridor in the lab, he couldn't see Rebecca in Trace, but he could see Mac at his desk, through the glass walls of his office. Flack knocked on the open door.

"Hey Mac," he said, "How's it going with the case."

"Not bad, Flack," he replied, "Rebecca made some good headway with the evidence. I sent her home a while ago. She seems to have a headache."

A look of worry flashed across Flack's face, which the older detective noticed, with a little amusement. Not for nothing was Mac Taylor a first grade detective.

"Well, she hit her head pretty bad," said Flack, "I better check on her when I get back."

"Not a bad idea," said Mac, smiling a little, "I'll call you tomorrow when we get the results for you."

"Thanks Mac," said Flack, before turning and heading swiftly towards the elevators.

Mac picked up his cell and texted Stella.

"_I'm in," _he wrote, _"The man is a goner."_

**CSINYCSINYCSINYCSINYCSINYCSINYC CSINYCSINYCSINYCSINYCSINY**

Rebecca jogged rather than ran. Her head was pounding and she was beginning to think it had been a mistake to run home. As she jogged slowly down the street, she saw a familiar figure on the stoop waiting for her…..

Flack was furious. He'd driven home, gone straight to her door, knocked for several minutes, before realizing that she'd probably decided to clear her head and run – in the dark, through Central Park, which had to be one of the stupidest things she could have done, especially after this morning. He'd decided to wait for her outside, now the air was cooler. He didn't have to wait long. He soon saw the familiar figure coming from the direction of the park.

As she slowed to a walk, the figure stood and Rebecca saw clearly that Flack was not pleased by the light of the street lamp. She got her keys out and brushed past him, not wanting to have an argument with him. Flack, however, was not going to be given the brush off.

"Please tell me," he said, an edge to his voice, "That you didn't run through Central Park at this time of night."

"So what if I did," replied Rebecca shortly, "I can do what I like."

"Do I have to remind you of what kind of thing happens to female joggers in Central Park at night?" said Flack, getting angrier by the second with Rebecca's attitude. Hell, he was angry with her for avoiding him, for being so short with him that morning, for getting in the way and getting hurt.

"No," replied Rebecca sarcastically, not wanting to show how scared she'd felt watching two violent men attacking him, "And I probably don't need to remind you what happens to men wandering alone in the park either. I'm a big girl. I know how to take care of myself."

Flack followed her up the stairs towards her apartment.

"Like you did this morning?" he asked angrily, "When you put yourself in the way of those two assholes! You could have been hurt!"

Rebecca spun to face him.

"Don't you dare start on me!" she shouted, "I didn't put myself in the way, they happened to be right there when I stood up! It could have been a lot worse!"

She turned away from him. Flack grabbed her shoulder and spun her back round to face him. He pushed her back against her door.

"They coulda still be armed Bec," he said, "You could have been shot!"

"Well I wasn't," she retorted, "I'm just fine. I got my own back for the backslap and hitting my head." She shoved Flack back a few steps, turning and opening her door.

"Now leave me alone! I need an ice pack!"

She made a move to slam her door shut, but Flack was too quick for her. He followed her into the dark apartment and grabbed her by the shoulders, turning her roughly to face him again. Rebecca struggled against his firm grip.

"I said leave me alone!" she shouted.

"Not until you tell me what's really going on," said Flack, shaking, her a little.

"Nothing that concerns you," spat back Rebecca, all the frustration and lack of decent sleep all suddenly coming for the fore within her. She tried to push him away.

"Why are you avoiding me?" he asked, "Did I say something, do something?"

"No," groaned Rebecca, trying to twist out of his hold. Flack took hold of her chin with one hand and forced her to look at him.

"I'm sorry I got so angry," he said softly. "I was worried about you today. I should have been paying more attention. If I had, I'd have checked that uniform had cleared the building before we went in."

Rebecca caught her breath. She couldn't speak. Her heart was starting to race at his being so close.

"I came looking for you," he continued, "At the lab. I wanted to check you were OK. Mac said you'd already left."

Rebecca nodded.

"And then I get back here ahead of you. When you weren't here, I figured you'd decided to do the stupid thing and run home through the park. And that makes me so mad, Bec, you not looking out for yourself."

"Why?" she whispered, "Why does that make you so angry?"

All of a sudden, Flack realized how near she was to him, that he could feel her pulse racing. He could feel the anger and all the pent up feelings he had for Rebecca which he was keeping locked up inside all boiling to the surface. He realized she could have been hurt today, that he wanted to protect her, that the assholes laying their hands on her had made him want to break them into little pieces with his bare hands.

He groaned, reaching for her to pull her closer. He tipped her face up to meet his and took possession of her lips with his, his kiss demanding and passionate……

**OK, so I've been struggling with this scene – it works in my head, but I'm not sure on paper, so sorry! Yeah, I'm mean for leaving it here.**

**Say hi before you leave!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7 – All Good Things**

**Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me (songs or CSI related) except anyone with the surname of Rhodes**

**Thx for all the reviews – dear CSI NY and Don Flack Fan – blame Flack…I had no intention of calling Rebecca "Bec", but apparently he does ;)**

**I've been watching CSI on DVD and on TV tonight, so I'm feeling inspired!!!**

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

For about one second, Flack thought he had maybe read the situation wrong, right before his need to kiss Rebecca kicked in. One hand slipped to the curve of her back, pulling her closer and he deepened the kiss, his other hand moving up her back. He was barely aware of Rebecca's arms moving up his own back to wind around his neck, her hands gripping the collar of his shirt. Through the haze of losing himself in the intensity of the kiss, he heard her moan slightly, before kissing him back. Encouraged by the little sound of enjoyment that had escaped her throat, Flack's mouth became more demanding, which was when Rebecca suddenly pulled away from him, wincing in pain, touching the sore spot on her mouth where the perp had hit her earlier in the day.

Both of them were breathing raggedly. He looked into her soft brown eyes, which were dazed, her pupils dilated slightly. He reached out to touch the sore spot on her mouth.

"Sorry," he whispered, raggedly. The dazed look in Rebecca's eyes was replaced with a sharp look of annoyance and irritation.

"_Sorry?"_ she replied, sarcastically.

Flack realized he'd put his foot in it. He smiled wrily and raised his eyebrows.

"For forgetting you had a sore lip, Bec," he said, "That's all."

Rebecca inhaled sharply and moved towards the light switch, suddenly needing to illuminate her apartment. Flack realized the moment had gone.

"I guess I'd better go," he said.

"It is late," she agreed, with just the slightest hint of regret in her voice. She walked Flack to the door.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow," she said, as Flack walked out into the hallway and then he turned round.

"Sure," he said. Then, as Rebecca started to close the door, he stepped back into the doorway.

"And one more thing," he said.

"Yes?" said Rebecca, a little breathlessly.

"I am not sorry for kissin' you," he said, before planting one swift, hard kiss to her lips, then turning and walking back to his own apartment.

Rebecca closed the door to her apartment slowly and put her back to the door. Touching her swollen lips, her knees suddenly buckled and she slid down the door into a little heap on the floor.

_Oh God, she thought, just how the hell was she going to get any sleep after that? Not to mention how much better his kiss was in real life, as opposed to in her dreams._

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

THE lab rats were already calling the case of the posed girl in the park Turf War 2009, thanks to the jurisdictional nightmare that seemed to be ensuing with the Jeffersonian. Evidence had finally arrived from Washington and Rebecca's morning had been taken up with comparing the murder weapons – a fine wire – from all the locations. Samples were running through trace and she'd put the DNA she'd found through CODIS, hoping for some hits. She had arrived to find they'd finally ID'd the vic and so had also spent the morning with Stella breaking the bad news to distraught parents, which had been a really unpleasant experience for her.

_At least, she thought, when I'm dealing with a new skeleton, I don't have to break bad news to anyone except the curators that they need room for a new bone box._

After getting into another fight with Hodgins via teleconference, Adam had retreated to the break room to play a round of Grand Theft Auto 5 with Sheldon, to calm down after his professionalism had been called into question. Not that he needed the excuse, but Rebecca hoped neither of them were going to get caught slacking off on the clock. Danny was in his office talking to Stella about something. Rebecca caught the odd gesticulation in her direction from time to time but decided to focus on comparing the ends of the wire under the microscope to see if there was _anything_ she could tell from it. She pressed play on her iPod and the loud sound of Nelly Furtado filled her ears, putting a smile on her face.

Messer was deep in discussion with Stella about the state of the pool now running on when Flack and Rebecca were actually going to admit they liked each other. The whole lab, not to mention the precinct, as well as the ancillary staff were all in on it and Stella found it quite amusing that even Mac had decided to join in this one time. Danny had the edge on sooner and he was wondering out loud whether he should give them a little push, as he put it.

"Messer," said Stella, "You'd trip Flack so he fell on Rebecca just to win this one," she said chuckling.

"No fair!" said Danny, "The guy's my wingman, I just wanna see him as happy with someone as I am with Lindsey,"

Stella smirked. "And so long as you get something out of it?" she asked, a little sarcastically.

"You want to watch that Stel," said Danny cheekily, "Or you might find a pool running on you and a certain _boss"_

Stella, flushed, straightened and glared at Danny, before spotting a certain, tall, dark-haired detective heading over to trace, who she duly pointed out to Danny.

"Now _that's_ what I'm talkin' about!" said Danny.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

Trace was empty except for Rebecca, who was bent over a microscope, oblivious to anything, deep in concentration on the task at hand. The rest of the lab rats were off gossiping somewhere about the latest Adam v Hodgins round. Flack slipped into the room, taking the time to appreciate the sight of Rebecca bent over the microscope. He couldn't resist. He walked over behind her, put one hand beside hers and gently tugged one earphone out of her ear.

"Miss me?" he whispered.

Rebecca's head sprung up and she accidently head butted Flack in the nose with the back of her head, taken aback at the intrusion on her solitude. Two "Ouchs" were heard, promptly followed by the sound of a crash, as Flack stepped back and tripped over a stool, which fell to the floor, along with him. The sudden noise got the attention of everyone on the floor; Mac, who was reading a case file while walking along the corridor stopped and looked in the direction of the commotion, promptly followed by Danny and Stella, who, in their haste to get into Trace and see what had happened, crashed into each other in the doorway. Rebecca blushed and swiftly rushed out of the room. Flack was left sitting on the floor, holding his nose, which was starting to bleed. Danny sauntered over and held out his hand to his friend to help him up. He grinned.

"Man," he said, "She got you _again!_" He chuckled, "I'm beginning to think, Donnie, that she's goin' to be the death of you one way or another!"

Stella promptly got a fit of the giggles and rushed out of Trace herself. Flack took the proffered hand and allowed Danny to haul him upright. He pulled out his handkerchief and dabbed at the spots of blood now coming out of his nose.

"Messer, you may just be right about that," he replied.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

Rebecca had retreated to the morgue and she put her forehead on the cool metal of the fridges and groaned. This got the attention of Sid, who came out of his office to see who was there. He was pleased to see Rebecca, as he had also been looking over some of the evidence findings from the Washington cases and had been comparing it with their own case. Their findings had prompted him to go back and look at their own body and he'd found an interesting piece of trace which he handed to Rebecca.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concerned at her flushed face.

"Sure Sid," she replied, "I've just taken to assaulting New York's finest as a new hobby."

Thanking Sid for his work, she headed out of the morgue and back to Trace, hoping Flack had found somewhere else to be.

Sid went back to his office and sat down at his computer, before instant messaging Stella to find out why Rebecca seemed to be so flustered…………..

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

**I hope you like it! Reviews make me smile! Stay tuned as the family from hell pay a visit to New York and Danny decides to take desperate measures…..**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8: A Family Affair?**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except the Rhodes family. Alliance and CBS own everything (bar the song references, which I don't own either!)**

**A big shout out to everyone who has been reviewing this story – I am so glad you like it; please let me know if there's anything you want to see…**

**I am watching CSI right now as a matter of fact….. ******

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

Email:

_To: Mac Taylor, Stella Bonasera, Sidney Hammerback, Sheldon Hawkes, Kendall Reilly,; Stephanie March, Montana (home)_

_Cc: Adam Ross_

_From: Daniel Messer_

_Subject: Apartments 3B and 3D Pool_

_Ok folks – here's the current status of the pool and I want to remind y'all I ain't changing the dates now…_

_Mac – 8 weeks (cautious ain't you, boss?)_

_Stella – 3 weeks, you old romantic _

_Me – two more days (and I don't care if I have to give them a little push)_

_Sid – 2 weeks, 4 days (I ain't saying nothing, man_

_Kendall – 2 weeks, 2 days (whatever)_

_Hawkes – March 3__rd__ (you gonna pick a year man?)_

_Stephanie – 1 week – and I am __**not**__ letting you change the date again girlfriend_

_Montana – 10 days (you know I'm gonna win baby)_

_Alright. Adam, you pussy, let me know if you're in – Rhodes and Flack won't kick your ass too much if you win!_

_Later,_

_Danny_

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

Rebecca took a deep breath and knocked at the door of 3D. She heard the sound of someone coming to the door and then unclocking it. The door opened and she was confronted with the sight of Flack, a little bruising under his eyes. He raised one eyebrow cynically at the sight of her.

"Come by to finish the job?" he asked, a little sardonically. Rebecca cringed, before she looked up to see an amused smirk on his face.

"I came bearing a gift by way of apology," she said, producing a bag labeled with the name of a good local restaurant on it. She picked up the six pack of beers at her feet.

"Good food?" he asked.

"I hope you like sushi," she said, then laughed at the appalled look on Flack's face at the thought of raw fish.

"I'm kidding Don," she said, laughing, "It's Thai!"

Flack stepped aside and opened his door further, sniffing appreciatively at the scent of spicy jungle curry mingled with other Thai dishes. Rebecca stepped by him, glancing sideways at him shyly.

"Ok, enter the dragon's lair, bringer of food," he said, "There's highlights of the last Rangers' game on."

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

They enjoyed their meal.

Afterwards, neither of them was paying too much attention to the game highlights on the TV. Flack stretched his arm out across the back of the couch, it coming to rest behind Rebecca's neck. She shivered slightly at the nearness of him.

"Cold?" he asked, "You can always get a little closer to get warm," he added, cheekily.

Rebecca shot him a dirty look.

"Aren't you scared I might do you another injury?" she asked.

Flack smirked.

"I think I might be able to handle you this time," he said.

"In your dreams, Irish!" she said.

And that was it. Flack pulled her towards him and started to tickle her. Within seconds, he discovered just how sensitive Rebecca was to being tormented like this. A couple of minutes after that, he had her pinned under him, both of them breathing heavily. He searched her eyes for any sign that she might be uncomfortable with how things were and saw none. He started to close the distance between them, to capture her lips in one of his searing kisses; her eyes starting to close as her lips opened when….

Her cell started to ring.

Rebecca swore and Flack pulled himself back upright as she twisted and struggled to find her phone. Her face fell as she recognized the caller ID. She sighed and snapped the phone open.

"Hello Mother," she said.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

After that, their evening came to an end. Flack was disappointed, but judging from the little she'd said about her family, her mother ringing was a real mood-killer. The conversation was brief. Her family was coming to New York. Her brother had finally convinced his up-tight, WASP, senator's daughter girlfriend to tie the knot, apparently, and the ice princess wanted her engagement ring from Tiffany's. So the whole family had decided to come on down to New York. Judging from Rebecca's reaction, she suspected it was to check up on her and turn their noses up at her job, her life, her apartment and, assuming Rebecca introduced them, him.

Great, he thought, just great.

They arrived a few days later, a few days where Rebecca had got progressively more anxious and ratty with all of her colleagues and Flack had heard the sounds of several levels of crap being kicked out of her punch-bag whenever he passed by her door.

He'd decided to give her some space. Family was always tough, he thought, thinking of Samantha, his sister.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

Rebecca barely managed to get the punch-bag down from the ceiling before her entry doorbell went Answering it, she took a deep breath to prepare herself for the torture that awaited her. She hadn't bothered to dress up, favoring her jeans and a soft knit top. There was a knock at the door. Forcing a smile onto her face, she opened it.

There was her entire family and her soon-to-be sister-in-law standing there. Her mother looking around her nervous, as though she expected something nasty to jump her, but her father actually looking pleased to see her. She stepped aside and waved them into her apartment. They all walked in

Miranda, Harrison's fiancee just looked bored and sat down primly on the couch. Harrison looked uncomfortable. Vanessa Rhodes looked disapprovingly at her daughter as she sat next to Miranda. Stanley Rhodes leaned against the counter that separated the kitchen from the lounge.

"Rebecca," she said in her tone that said she was disappointed as usual with her daughter, "We're going to _21_ for lunch – aren't you going to change?"

Rebecca sighed. She should have guessed her mother had planned something like this.

"Actually, no mother," she said, "I'm not going to change. I have to go into the lab to finish up processing some evidence on a case we have on the books."

On mentioning her job, her father's face grew tight.

_So he still doesn't approve_, thought Rebecca, _Just great_.

"Surely you have the day off," said her mother, slightly outraged, "I mean _we_ are in town."

Rebecca could feel anger rising within her.

"No, mother," said Rebecca, "I have to go in for a while. It's a high profile case and Dr Brennan and Agent Booth are flying in to review our findings and evidence. I need to finish up my work."

Miranda rolled her eyes at the ceiling. Evidently annoyed with not being able to spend more of her valuable time shopping at Bloomingdale's, Rebecca thought savagely. And then Harrison did something surprising.

"Mother," he said, "Rebecca is absolutely right. Her career is important to her. You would be furious if Dad told you to drop organizing one of your charity events because he needed you to charm his clients, wouldn't you?"

Rebecca's jaw dropped. Apparently her spineless brother wasn't such a pushover.

"Now come on Becca," he said, placing a hand under his fiancee's elbow to force her to stand, "Let's go and see this famous lab that's keeping you away from all mother's plans to turn you into the ultimate socialite hostess."

He winked at his sister, who grinned back at him. Their mother rose from the couch as well, obviously outraged.

"Harrison!" she said sharply. She got her mean glint in her eye and turned to her daughter.

"Now when are you going to give up this silly little position and come home to Washington?" she asked nastily.

Grabbing her leather jacket and purse, Rebecca muttered softly to herself under her breath, _like never_.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

Flack was coming back to the apartment after grabbing a bagel and coffee from the café to see a pile of blonds and Rebecca on the outside steps to their building. The detective in him sized them up.

Rebecca, rebellious, dressed down in regular street clothes. A distinguished older grey-haired man in a good suit that Flack sort of envied, _Dad_, he thought. An older, graying blond, in a designer suit. _That must be the mom from hell,_ thought Flack. Then there was a younger blond version of the older man, which must be the brother. And lastly, the beautiful young blond, dressed to kill, looking like something smelled really bad. That'll be the future Mrs Rhodes junior, he thought. As he got closer, he heard Rebecca raising her voice in response to something her mother had said.

"Mother!" she almost shouted.

"Don't you take that tone with me, Rebecca Mary," said the older woman, "I merely suggested that these old buildings _might_ have an insect infestation problem."

Rebecca looked seething at that comment.

"Well don't say that to the super!" she hissed. Then she caught sight of Flack.

He stopped at the foot of the steps.

"Hey Bec," he said, noticing the warning look Rebecca shot him. All eyes turned to him.

"Uh, family," said Rebecca, "This is Don Flack, Jr, colleague and neighbor," said Rebecca. The young blond man bounded down the steps and shook his hand warmly.

"Hi," he said, "I'm Harrison, Rebecca's older brother. So you have the misfortune to work with the hellion, huh?"

Flack smirked. He liked this guy.

"Harrison," said the older woman, "I'm sure that's not appropriate. Now Rebecca dear, if we're going to see this _lab_ of yours we'd really better get going," saying lab like it was a dirty word.

The older woman shepherded the rest of her family down the steps past Flack and they walked off down the street towards some packed cars. Flack couldn't resist saying what popped into his head next.

"Yo, Bec," called Flack after her, "You coming over for some beer and pizza later to watch the game?"

Rebecca glared at him. Flack could have sworn the older woman shuddered in distaste. Flack grinned to himself, slapped his paper against his leg and let himself into the building.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

The visit to the lab didn't go particularly well. Her father looked uncomfortable and her mother was just plain rude to all the staff who tried to be welcoming towards them. She'd even been rude to Stella, which Rebecca thought was totally wrong, as Stella was just about the nicest person around. Miranda had stifled a couple of yawns. Rebecca was not warming up to her as future family any time soon. Harrison, however, had surprised her by taking a real interest in everything she did and the whole place and had managed, somehow, to endear himself to Adam through a mutual of all things technical.

But then Mrs. Rhodes had met her boss, thought Rebecca, and having made some poor comparisons between the Jeffersonian and the Crime Lab, before making some equally disparaging comments about her daughter had resulted in Mac Taylor's steel-blue eyes turning cold and making some statements about just how good Rebecca was at her job, not to mention stating the facts about just how good his team actually was, before walking off to his office, but not without lightly touching Rebecca's arm, to let her know he didn't hold her responsible for her mother's behavior.

Rebecca was really glad when they left. She managed to finish up on her evidence, before heading home, but she passed on the beer and pizza. She was not that happy with Flack.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

The whole lab was nervous about the impending visit of the renowned Dr Temperance Brennan to the lab. Rebecca was expecting the third degree from her former boss and no small amount of ribbing from her friend, Agent Seeley Booth, who she'd sparred with on ice a few times before. She kind of hoped he'd meet Flack – they had so much in common. She also thought he'd probably get on well with Mac, as they had their mutual military careers to discuss. She guessed he'd probably try to charm Stella.

Then Bones had arrived, they'd gone through the evidence after exchanging pleasantries and messages from Washington had been delivered, along with a present from Angela for Rebecca (a small painting for her apartment, beautiful as things made by Angela always are).

Predictably, Booth and Mac had gotten along really well, exchanging stories about their time in uniform as well as going over the evidence from the New York Crime Scene.

Bones had been, well, Bones, discussing her findings in her usual methodical way, comparing them to the evidence from Washington. Bones had been taken aback by Danny's laid back attitude to the job and Adam, well Adam had just been totally stunned by the force of nature that was Bones, as though he really didn't know what to do with himself around her.

Everything, thought Rebecca, had been going just fine until a certain someone had decided to come up to the lab to discuss some aspects of a case.

She'd heard his voice in the corridor and looked up. She'd stopped talking to Bones and had looked in Flack's direction, coloring slightly as she followed his progress to Trace with her eyes, watching his laid-back stride as he sauntered towards them.

Bones had also stopped talking and looked at the man coming into Trace.

Bones had looked at the handsome detective. Then she had looked at Rebecca. She'd looked back and forth another couple of times.

That, thought Rebecca, should have been the first warning that Bones was about to make one of her badly timed and inappropriate observations.

Bones had smiled and stuck out her hand to introduce herself to Flack, who had looked amused at the vigorous handshake Bones had delivered. Booth had finished his conversation with Mac and he'd been introduced to Flack as well.

Bones had looked between her and Rebecca a few more times before drawing her conclusions. Rebecca had tried to draw Bones' attention back to the evidence in front of her.

And failed.

"I totally understand!" she said, drawing the attention of Flack, Booth, Adam, Rebecca and Danny.

"What?" asked Rebecca, who could have kicked herself later for making such a stupid comment.

"Your attraction to Detective Flack here!" said Bones, as though pointing out something so blindingly obvious _everyone_ should be able to see it.

Rebecca's jaw dropped. Booth's head snapped round.

"Uh, Bones…." He said, warningly, his voice tailing off as Bones spoke again.

"He really is quite a superb specimen of manhood," said Bones enthusiastically.

And that was it. Danny started to laugh uncontrollably as Rebecca put her head in her hands. Adam stood there, mouth open, looking around uncomfortably, stepping from one foot to the other. Booth grabbed Bones' arm.

"Bones, we gotta go see Dr Hammerback about the body," he said, firmly steering her towards the door to Trace.

"But," sputtered Bones, trying to delay him, "You said I had to be more in tune with people's emotions!" sounding mildly outraged.

"Bones," Booth said firmly, "As Sweets and I have been trying to tell you, there's a time and a place for your observations. Now let's go talk to the creepy man in the basement."

He finally succeeded in removing her from the room, but then Bones grabbed the door frame and opened her mouth for her final assault on Rebecca's sanity.

"I quite understand why you would want to mate with him," She said.

"_Bones!"_ said Booth, dragging her off. They could quite clearly hear Bones disagreeing with Booth all the way to the elevators, all the while explaining she liked the creepy man in the basement because she could talk to him about all kinds of things.

Danny, by now, was on the floor, speechless with laughter, tears pouring down his face. Other lab techs were sniggering behind their work. Adam's jaw was still near the floor. Rebecca didn't dare look at Flack. She knew her face must be bright red.

Muttering an excuse about checking on some results, she fled from the room, past Stella, who had come to see what all the commotion was about, to be confronted with Danny, still rolling on the floor with laughter, a stunned-looking Flack and a bunch of lab techs who suddenly seemed suspiciously busy.

"What's going on?" she asked, "Haven't any of you got work to be doing?"

Flack sputtered and made some excuse about needing to get back to his desk and left.

Having got nothing out of Danny or Adam, Stella fixed them with a sharp look and turned on her heel, walking back towards her office, reading through a case file.

When Danny finally got his breath back, he pulled himself upright. He suddenly had a brilliant idea.

"Boom!" he said. "Adam – how do you fix the elevators so they don't work?"

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

**A big thank you to everyone who's reading the story – I hope you like it. Review mean love, people, and they make my day, so stop by and say hi! Sorry this was so long in coming…It was a difficult chapter and Bones decided she just had to say something as well!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9 – Love in an Elevator?**

…**Because I just had to call this chapter that! Sorry for not posting for a while – school (I'm on placement) has been manic but I'm now on Easter vacation, so hopefully I'll get this story finished. I've actually written the epilogue already, which I hope you guys will enjoy!**

**Thank you so much for all the reviews…can we go for an even hundred, huh?**

**BTW – have been watching my way through all the CSI: NY and saw S04.03 – You Only Live Once yesterday…did I like the opening…much? Whaddya reckon?? Plus Flack in a Tux???? Yummmmmm**

**Enjoy people!**

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY **

"_Boom!" said Danny, "Adam – how do you fix the elevators so they don't work?"_

Rebecca figured, after about fifteen minutes, that it was probably safe to come out of the locker room. After checking out the corridor, she noticed that it was virtually deserted. Moving quickly, she headed into the group's collective office to go over some results from another outstanding case she was working on. Stella was in there, sitting at her desk.

"You okay kid?" she asked.

Rebecca blushed a little.

"Yeah, thanks Stel," she replied, blushing slightly and tried to focus on her work. But Stella Bonasera was not a detective second grade for nothing.

"You gonna tell me what happened just now?" she asked.

Rebecca sighed, knowing that if she didn't say something, the lab gossips would, not that the whole sordid encounter wasn't probably all over NYPD by now.

"Um, Dr Brennan made some, uh, _observations_ about Detective Flack and, well, a member of the team," she said, blushing even redder.

Stella smothered a smile. The whole department was well aware of the little dance Dr Rhodes and Detective Flack were doing around each other.

"I take it by _member of the team_ you mean you, right?" she said.

"Uh-huh," said Rebecca.

"It can't have been that bad, right?" asked Stella.

"Well, no," said Rebecca, "Not unless you count the fact that Dr Brennan has a habit of being blunt to the point of rude and pretty much told the entire lab I wanted to do the down and dirty with Don Flack junior as _not bad."_

Rebecca buried her head in her hands on top of her desk and groaned. Stella couldn't help laughing.

"Stel," she groaned, "You have no idea. I mean the man lives two apartments down on the same freaking floor as me and keeps insisting on either inviting me over, joining me on my runs to work through the park or finding some excuse to come over! How the hell am I _ever_ going to look him in the eye again?" _Yeah, those sexy, devilish blue eyes._

Stella got up from her desk and walked over to Rebecca, crouching beside her and putting her arm around her shoulders.

"Kid, it'll be OK," she said, "Don has a great sense of humor – he won't hold it against you!"

"What if he thinks what she said is true though!?" Rebecca almost cried, _like, yeah, you're kidding yourself if you think you can convince yourself you don't want more of his hot kisses, his toned physique, those blue eyes looking deep into yours…._ Rebecca straightened up and tried to get her mind firmly off the sexy detective.

"If you tell Don it's not true, I know he'll believe you," said Stella, all the time thinking, _yeah kid, like it's not totally obvious you have the hots for our favorite detective!_

"OK," said Rebecca, in a very small voice and both detectives turned their attention back to their cases.

_Meanwhile, over in the AV Lab….._

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY **

"OK Danny," said Adam, "You remember when the Wilder gang broke in to the lab to steal their heroine back, right?"

_Like either of them would ever forget that day._ Adam shuddered a little, before pulling up some computer schematics for building systems.

"Yeah," said Danny. His memories of that day weren't so good either.

"Well Mac convinced the Chief and the Inspector to let him install a state-of-the-art security system for the building, that allows staff with the codes…"

"Like you an' me," interjected Danny.

"Like you and me," continued Adam, "To be able to access the building's security systems in the event of another breach. As you can see," he said, demonstrating the data and programs now running on screen, "From any terminal at NYPD, in this building, we can shut down any systems we want…"

"Including the elevators?" asked Danny.

"_Especially_ including the elevators," agreed Adam, "All you need to do is highlight them like this," he indicated, using the mouse to click on the appropriate folder, detailed _Building Systems_, "Click on _Elevators_ and a range of options will come up. You can secure the whole building, from doors, to the parking garage, to individual computer stations, all from one monitor. We've also now got much better back-up power and communications, so no-one should be able to knock out our internet or phone systems again."

"That's pretty neat," said Danny, "You design it?"

Adam shrugged a little. "I had a hand in it," he affirmed.

Danny pursed his lips and nodded his head, slapping Adam on the back.

"Nice work, geek!" he said.

Adam grinned. "But just _why_ do you want to know how to shut down the elevators Detective Messer?"

And his face fell, as he realized this _had_ to have something to do with the pool Danny was running on two certain detectives.

"_Man_ you're _not_ serious!" he exclaimed, "Just _please_ don't tell them I had anything to do with this! Or the boss!"

"You scared of a girl, Ross?" Danny taunted slightly.

"Only girls who know Krav Maga," said Adam, "And detectives who have a rep[ for taking their guys down _hard."_

Danny smirked. "Don't worry Adam," he said, "I promise I'll protect you!"

_Yeah right_, thought Adam.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY **

Meanwhile, down in Autopsy, Sid and Bones were looking enthusiastically at Sid's collection of CT scans and his computerized body images. Booth was trying to look as though he understood what they were talking about.

"As you can see, Dr Brennan," said Sid, "The hyoid bone is fractured, which is consistent with the cases in D.C."

"I agree," said Bones, "And the injuries the victim suffered are also similar to those victims as well."

"I must admit," said Sid, "The whole case is really quite exciting, if you can call a serial killer case _exciting_."

Booth shuddered. The creepy man was _excited_ by this serial case? He didn't want to think about what the man thought was _really_ exciting.

"It's just the whole pose of the body, plus the almost unidentifiable trace we found around the neck," he continued, "Our lab hasn't been able to find anything particularly distinguishable about it."

"Neither did we," confessed Bones, "I must admit it's all been a little perplexing. There are no leads, no evidence that leads us to the killer. He really is quite excellent at covering his tracks."

Booth didn't like it when Bones started making those kind of statements. Especially not to NY MEs.

"Come on Bones," he said, "He has to make a mistake sooner or later, right?"

"I'm not a profiler Booth," she replied, "That's really more Sweets' or a profiler's department. However, we had three cases in Washington and absolutely no leads. Aside from the fact that the victims resembled each other in coloring, there was absolutely nothing to connect any of them to each other or a common factor. There was a single mother, a student and an office worker. So I really can't comment on whether or not he'll make a mistake. The evidence," she swept her hand over the information in front of them, "Would seem to indicate otherwise. He plans methodically. He selects his victims. He has a type, but they're not connected and he is not sticking to any particular area, either in committing the murders or for victims. There were no crimes like this before he started his little shopping trip…"

"_Spree_, Bones, _spree,"_ said Booth,

"Alright, _spree_," she said, with a focus on _spree_, "Aside from the fact that he has used ribbon, probably from the same roll, to strangle all of his victims, we have no leads at all. And the ribbon was a dead end, as it is sold in just about every draper store in the continental United States and the batch that was produced was large."

Booth sighed. Bones was right. They had nothing. There was nothing new in New York; they were going to have to return empty-handed to Washington.

"We're gonna have to go home, Bones," he said, "There's nothing new here – no offence Doc," he apologized to Sid.

Sid sighed heavily.

"I understand Agent Booth," he said, "I understand you both have busy case loads to handle back in Washington." He cast a wistful look at Bones. "I was so looking forward to discussing that lecture you gave at the University of Tennessee last year – on determining approximate time of death from moss and lichen growth on bones – with you."

Booth shuddered. He grabbed Bones by the arm.

"Thanks Doc," he said, dragging Bones out of Autopsy, "Bones and I have an engagement at Madison Square Gardens – our team the Capitals, is playing the Rangers tonight. Come on Bones."

Protesting slightly, Bones waved at Sid as Booth dragged her from the room. There was no way Booth was letting Bones get into a disgusting discussion about the Bone Farm with the doc. Yeah – he knew _all_ about why Bones got invited to deliver lectures at the University of Tennessee….

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY **

A few hours later, Rebecca stepped into the elevator on the 35th floor, to head down to the precinct. Detective Jess Angell had called her about a suspect they had in custody and Rebecca had got some results that proved his guilt. She was on her way down to question the perp with the lovely detective. The elevator was empty.

As the doors started to close, Rebecca got the shock of her life when an arm suddenly slammed through the narrowing gap, causing the sensors to open the doors. She caught her breath, as the man barging into her solitude, was one Detective Don Flack.

_Well,_ she thought, _I had to deal with this sooner rather than later._

As he hit the "down" button himself, he turned and smirked to see Rebecca standing on the other side of the elevator.

_Good_, he thought, _now we can talk for a minute and I can ask her a question,_ as he fingered the smooth cards in his pocket – a favor called in from someone on the force who owed him one.

Neither of them was aware that their departure from the 35th floor was being closely watched by one lab technician and one detective.

"So," said Danny, "I click _here_," he said, moving the mouse to _elevators_, "Click _all stop_ and we're stopped?"

"Yeah," said Adam nervously, craning his neck and looking down the corridor in case anyone was watching them.

"A'right," said Danny, "That's done. Now Adam, if I click _here_," he said, moving the mouse to _system diagnostic_, "It's gonna take a while to get everything up and running, right?"

"Uh, yeah," said Adam, "But why would you want to do that…?"

His voice tailed off as Danny _clicked_ and they heard the sound of the elevators shutting down.

Danny turned to Adam and made a move to high-five him.

"_Boom!"_ he said, "Mission accomplished.

Adam looked nervous.

"You do realize they're going to be trapped in there for _at least_ an hour, right?" he asked.

Danny just grinned.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY **

Somewhere between the 30th and 29th floors of the NYPD building, the elevator car jerked to a sudden stop. Rebecca jolted forwards.

Then the lights went out. Flack swore. He reached out to check where Rebecca was.

"You OK Bec?" he asked.

"Yeah," said Rebecca, her voice a little higher than usual. Rebecca did not like confined spaces.

Flack pulled out his cell and dialed Danny. He had thought the detective was up to something.

"_Messer,"_ said the slightly disembodied voice on the end of the phone, "_Hey Flack, how's it hanging?"_

"Funny," said Flack, "You wouldn't happen to know why the elevator car just stopped between the 30th and 29th floors would ya?"

"_Me?"_ asked Danny, sounding the picture of innocence, "_Naw man. Hang on, I'll ask Adam."_

To Flack it sounded muffled, as though Danny had put his hand over the phone. Then he came back on the line.

"_Uh, Flack," _he said, _"Adam says that there's a system test and diagnostic going on right now. He said there was a memo. Didn't cha get it?"_

_Test my ass,_ thought Flack.

"Apparently not Messer," he replied, "Any idea how long we're going to be in here?"

"_We, Flack," _asked Danny, _"Who's in there with you?"_

_Like you don't know, _thought Flack a little savagely. The red emergency lights came on, to reveal a very freaked-out looking Rebecca standing bolt upright against the wall of the car, holding her file to her chest in a vice-like grip.

"Detective Rhodes and I are in here. On our way to the precinct," said Flack. He swore Danny laughed.

"_I'll get Adam on the case, but he thinks it'll be about an hour,"_ said Danny.

Rebecca heard that. "_What?????"_ she nearly screamed. Flack grimaced.

"Fine," he said shortly, "I'll look after the detective here – you two work on getting us outta here sooner rather than later."

"_Sure, Flack. Later,"_ said Danny, and rung off.

Flack shrugged off his suit jacket and sat down on the floor. He was damned if he was going to be uncomfortable while he waited. Plus the temperature was starting to rise, and not all of it had to do with the lack of air…

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY **

Mac Taylor, after receiving a call from some irate employees down in the lobby and on various floors regarding the non-functioning elevators, decided to take a short walk down the corridor on the 35th floor. Passing AV, he noticed Adam and Danny engrossed with some computer program. He walked in the door. Neither of them noticed him.

"Gentlemen," he said.

"Hey boss," said Danny, looking up. Adam didn't make eye contact. _He looks a little panicked,_ thought Mac.

"Anything wrong Adam?" he asked.

"Uh, no, well, not exactly boss," replied Adam.

"Well Adam," said Mac, vaguely amused, "What is it?"

"Well there's _maybe_ a _tiny_ little problem with the building's systems…" Adam's voice tailed off.

"That would explain the calls I've been getting regarding the elevators," deduced Mac, "So what's up exactly?" He made his way round to look at the monitor readouts.

"Well, uh, I might have been showing Danny our new building security systems…" he said.

"…And I might have _accidently_ caused the system to stop and then run a diagnostic," finished Danny.

Mac smirked.

"I'm sure it was all a _totally_ innocent mistake," said Mac.

"Course Boss!" said Danny, sounding just a little _too _sincere.

"I'm sure you have it all in hand," said Mac, picking up a report off the work bench and exiting the office.

_I knew he'd do something,_ thought Mac, chuckling slightly.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY **

Rebecca had finally sat down and was sitting stiffly, with her eyes closed, breathing in pants. Flack was a little worried.

"Bec, you OK?" he asked.

"Yessssss," she hissed, going back to her short breaths.

"Don't be giving me that crap, Bec, you ain't OK," said Flack.

What Rebecca did next surprised the hell out of him. One second she was on the other side of the car from him, the next she was in his arms, virtually in his lap, her arms wrapped tightly around his middle, her eyes firmly closed. He closed his arms around her and soothingly rubbed her back.

"I'm guessing heap, big touch martial arts girl doesn't like confined spaces?" he teased.

Rebecca poked him in the ribs.

"_Not_ funny," she said.

"It's kinda cute," teased Flack, smiling at her discomfort, although her breathing had settled and he could feel her relaxing into the embrace. He continued to rub her back in circles.

"Mmmmm," murmured Rebecca, a little breathily, "That feels nice."

Flack cleared his throat and tried not to think about what that last breathless comment was doing to his imagination.

"So," he said, trying to distract them both, "You don't like cramped close quarters, huh?"

"Nope," replied Rebecca, "Not since Harrison locked me in a wardrobe when I was five. My parents have a big house. No-one found me for three hours."

Flack found himself getting angry at the thought of a pretty little girl, as Rebecca must have been, trapped for hours in a dark wardrobe, unable to get anyone to let her out. She must have sobbed her heart out, he thought.

"Want me to kill your brother for you?" he asked. He could feel Rebecca smile against his chest.

"No," she said, "I already made him suffer."

Flack didn't doubt that for a second.

"Actually," she said, "_This_ is kinda nice."

"Yeah," agreed Flack. He cleared his throat. Rebecca suddenly turned her face up to him, a worried look appearing.

"I'm sorry about before," she said, "You know, what Bones said."

Flack smoothed a stray lock of hair off of her face.

"S'OK," he said, "I get she opens her mouth and weird stuff comes out."

Rebecca giggled.

"Oh Don," she said, "You have _no_ idea!" She settled back against him, one hand on his chest, the other still wrapped around his side. A wicked grin appeared on her face.

"So what are we going to do for the next hour detective?" she asked.

Flack's eyes hardened with intent as he looked into her laughing brown ones, he glanced down at her sweet little mouth, a smile dancing on her lips.

"Wait it out detective," he replied. Rebecca pouted.

"Spoilsport," she said.

Flack knew he'd probably regret asking what was on her mind, but…

"Why, what did you have in mind?" he asked.

"Well," she said, rubbing her hand across his chest in a manner that was definitely _not_ innocent, "Have you ever made out in an elevator?"

Rebecca knew she was playing with fire. Flack swallowed hard. Then he put his own, big hand over hers and stopped the movement. For a split second, Rebecca thought she had read him all wrong. He put a hand under her chin and tipped her head up so he could look into her eyes.

"Honey," he said, "My momma taught me you don't make out with girls you aren't dating in elevators."

He grinned.

"You make out with them after a date in the back of your car or on your coach after luring them into your apartment."

"Hmmm," said Rebecca thoughtfully, "You've done a lot of _luring_, Detective, but not a great deal of the _making out_."

"That's because we're not dating, Bec," he said. He felt her stiffen.

Rebecca sat up and pushed herself so she was sitting next to him, rather than in his arms, _where she belonged_.

"Bec," he said, teasingly, "Are you mad at me?"

"Well I just don't know where I stand, Don," she said, folding her arms across her chest.

Flack smiled.

"I would have thought that was obvious, Bec, seeing as I kissed you."

Rebecca flushed a little and smiled. Her hands were playing with the hem of her shirt. Flack reached out and took one of her hands in his.

"Plus, I was going to find you later and check what you were doing this evening," he said.

Rebecca sneaked a shy look at him from under her eyebrows.

"Why?" she asked, "You wanna make out on your couch?" she said, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively, comic style.

Flack swallowed. Now he was thinking things he really shouldn't.

"No, I just managed to get tickets for the first Rangers game of the season and I wanted to take you. Maybe get some dinner too. On a date."

Rebecca grinned. This was her idea of a perfect date. But she decided to wind him up a little and pouted again.

"A public place? But we can't make out at Madison Square Gardens, Don!" she giggled.

He fixed her with a hot, but stern look.

"Young lady," he said roughly, "NY's finest do not make out in public places."

Rebecca giggled again. He put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her towards him, kissing her on the top of her head.

_No, _he thought, _we'll be making out on my couch, __**after**__ our date, once I lure you into my apartment for an Irish coffee._

Just then the lights flickered on and the elevator car gave a sudden lurch, moving back into motion towards the ground floor. Flack stood and gave his hand to Rebecca, pulling her to her feet. Of course, accidently pulling her off balance so she crashed into his chest. She snaked her arms around his waist again, before turning her face up to his, a beautiful smile on her face. He kissed her lightly on the lips.

They pulled apart before they reached their destination, Flack grabbing his wrinkled jacket and Rebecca her case file from the floor. The doors dinged open on the ground floor, revealing a surprisingly large crowd around the doors waiting for them. Apparently they were the only ones who had been trapped.

_Yeah, _he thought, _that'd be about right._

"Haven't you all got cases to solve?" he barked a little harshly at the uniforms and detectives, who quickly scattered, "And I will pick you up at a quarter of six," he whispered in Rebecca's ear.

Rebecca clutched the file to her chest and faced him. Flack noticed the wicked look in her eye.

"Did I say yea, detective?" she asked, turning on her heel and sashaying away in the direction of the interrogation room Angell must have told her to come to.

Flack scratched his head then turned and headed to his own desk.

_She was kidding, right?_

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY **

**Sorry – long chapter and I meant to do the date as well, but it's 3am precisely and I need sleep! Been catching up on the NHL too and chatting to friends, so got sidetracked.**

**Hot date to follow, with a twist.**

**And to tease you some more, I know how the story is now going to play out…came to me in a moment of sheer genius (but it's gonna get a little dark!)**

**Leave a message after the tone…I love to know your opinions guys!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10 – All Stars**

**First up; disclaimer – I own nothing. Forgot it last time…oops. The only thing that belongs to me is Rebecca Rhodes!**

**Second up; Prey…anyone??? Hot or what??? **_**Handcuffs!?!**_** Oh, be still my beating heart (and I liked that it was Angell using them, although I'd had visions of Flack using them…oh I think I'd better just stop right there, huh?**

**Thirdly – the tenth chapter is dedicated to SpankyMcDoogleFace, Brown Eyed Girl 75 and MrAprilFoolsWatanuki – you rock guys!**

**Fourthly: **_**THERE ARE SEASON 5 SPOILERS IN THIS CHAPTER!!!!!**_

**CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY**

Rebecca and Angell's interview had gone pretty well. At first, the perp had thought Rebecca was good cop and Angell bad cop – once he had gotten over his whole sleaze act at being interrogated by the "two damn prettiest girls in blue he'd ever seen". He'd realized his mistake after one smart remark too many had had the perp "accidentally" fall out of his chair as Rebecca walked behind him. When he'd made a move to hit her, she'd slammed him face down onto the desk and then cuffed him with the handcuffs Angell had tossed her. They'd added attempted assault of an officer to his rap sheet.

Satisfied with the afternoon's work, Angell and Rebecca had retreated to her desk in the precinct for coffee and a quick look over the file before Rebecca had to head back up to the lab.

Rebecca was struck by their similarity – both stunning, brown-eyed, shapely brunettes that could hold their own in a fight. That was where the similarity ended; Rebecca may have taken out her aggression on ice and at Krav Maga classes, but Angell had earned her stripes at the hands of four older brothers and a father who was one of New York's finest. Rebecca knew which credentials she had more respect for. She looked up and caught Angell looking at her a little slyly. Pushing the file to the center of Angell's desk, she sat back in her chair and grabbed her coffee, nursing the hot cup in her hands.

"Spill, Detective," she said, "What's on your mind?"

She already knew the answer. She wasn't disappointed.

"I was just wondering if any of the rumors I heard about you and a certain blue-eyed detective were true," said Angell, taking a sip of her own coffee.

Rebecca looked down at her cup and smiled a little. Angell continued.

"I heard you two got stuck in an elevator and our visiting expert, Dr Brennan, made some interesting comments about you two in Trace," Angell continued.

Rebecca grinned. She liked Angell. She was forthright and spoke her mind.

"Yeah," said Rebecca, "We got stuck in an elevator, but nothing happened. And yeah, Bones DID make some comments. I should have been ready for them. I've known her a long time."

Angell looked at the woman in front of her. She'd noticed the slight flush spread across her cheeks at the mention of Don Flack. And with good reason, she thought. After all, Angell had nothing but fond memories of their short, but very sweet relationship, before they'd both called it quits due to the fact they worked together so closely. But they were still pretty close.

"Don's a good man," she said. Then, with a wicked look in her eye, "And he's a great kisser too."

Rebecca sat bolt upright. "I kn…" she started, before realizing she'd given it away. She grinned sheepishly back at Angell.

"I knew it!" said Angell, "Good for you girl! You know we've got some history?"

Rebecca frowned a little. She didn't want to cross Angell in any way.

"Yeah, I'd heard," she replied, "Are you OK with, well, maybe me and Don seeing each other?"

Angell smiled, reached across the desk and patted the back of Rebecca's hand.

"We're old history," she reassured Rebecca, "But it ended real well. Don's like that. He doesn't like leaving bitterness if he an avoid it. It was just one of those things. It didn't work out. By the way," she said slyly, "He's not just good at kissing!"

Rebecca looked somewhere between relieved and flustered. She bit her lip and looked at Angell, as though trying to decide whether or not to tell her something. Angell grinned.

"Now it's your turn," she said, "Spill – what's on _your_ mind?"

"He asked me out," replied Rebecca, "Tonight."

"He's still got game!" said Angell excitedly, "Where's he taking you? Restaurant? Nightclub?"

Rebecca sighed. She was pretty excited about their first date.

"Nope," she replied, "He's taking me to the first Rangers game of the season."

Angell was about to comment that that was so like Don to pick a boy's night for a first date rather than something romantic, when she saw the look on Rebecca's face – Dr Rhodes was not disappointed by this, she noted.

"Please don't tell me you're a hockey fan!" she exclaimed. Rebecca grinned in response.

"Oh Don must think he's found the girl of his dreams," said Angell, "He is the Rangers' biggest fan! Now he doesn't have to make excuses about watching wall-to-wall ESPN during the Stanley Cup!"

Rebecca finished her coffee, leaned forward and whispered to Angell.

"He hasn't got anything on me," she said, "I got ink done while I was in college."

Angell's eyes gleamed and she nodded her head in the direction of the ladies' rest room.

"This I gotta see," she said, and both detectives adjourned to the ladies' conference room.

**CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY**

Rebecca pulled down her pants on her left hip and showed Angell the red, white and blue Lady Liberty New York Rangers emblem on her hip. Angell whistled. It was pretty detailed.

"That had to hurt!" she said. Rebecca shrugged.

"Stung a little," she replied, "OK, stung _a lot_!"

"Don seen it yet?" asked Angell cheekily.

"No!" exclaimed Rebecca, tucking her shirt back into her pants. Angell showed her her tattoo; a delicate band of flowers round her right wrist.

"Got any more?" asked Angell casually.

"A few," admitted Rebecca, "Mostly in places they don't show. My mother would be furious if she knew about them, but that's kinda why I got them."

"I hear you," said Angell, "My Dad grounded me for a month when I came home with the flowers."

Just then, boththeir cell phones rang, necessitating the end of their discussion. As Rebecca walked back towards the elevators, Angell called to her.

"Coffee, tomorrow," she called, "I want _all_ the details."

"OK!" said Rebecca.

"And Rebecca?" said Angell.

"Yeah?"

"Don't worry about the pool Danny has running on you and Flack!" Angell called, as she headed through the doors back to her desk.

_Pool?_ Thought Rebecca, _what pool?_ Picking up the pace with determination, Rebecca walked swiftly to the elevator. She had a sudden urge to interrogate Detective Messer.

**CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY**

Let's just say that Adam confessed all to a furious looking Rebecca and aside from a quick slap upside his head was pretty much left alone. Messer, on the other hand, spent a couple of hours locked in the stationery supplies closet on the 35th floor. Not that this in any way dampened his enthusiasm for seeing how the pool played out.

**CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY**

The one thing about mothers, thought Rebecca, at half past five, clad only in a large, soft, navy bath sheet, was their really crappy timing. Running around her apartment, trying to put together an outfit whilst trying to discuss Harrison's upcoming engagement party _and_ keep her wet hair out of her face, was a fairly impossible task.

Not to mention there was no way on this earth she would even manage to apply any make-up in the fifteen minutes she had left before Don was due to pick her up for their date.

_Date,_ she thought. Rebecca liked the sound of that. Drifting off, she was brought back to the moment by two things: One, the sound of her mother shrieking at her on the other end of the phone that she wasn't paying attention and two, the sound of someone knocking on the door _fifteen minutes early_. Oh god.

"Mother," said Rebecca, slightly panicked, "I _have_ to go. My date's at the door!"

"_Date? What date? Who is this….."_ said Mrs Rhodes.

"Gotta go mother, love to Daddy!" said Rebecca, snapping the cell shut and throwing it onto the couch. She dashed towards the door, swearing as she stubbed her toe on the kitchen island. Making her way to the door, she checked who was there through the spyhole, pressing her head against the door and groaning slightly as she realized it was, in fact, Detective Donald Flack Jr, fifteen minutes early. She unlocked the door, opening it. Turning and heading for the bedroom, grabbing some clothes on the way, Flack stopped dead in the doorway at the sight of the beautiful woman, clad only in a towel, looking flustered, in front of him. He swallowed hard. His mind was trying to process the fact that she probably wasn't wearing _anything_ under that towel.

"Grab yourself a beer from the refrigerator," said Rebecca, "I promise I won't be long!"

"No problem," said Flack, "Sorry I was early, Take your time."

_Plus_, he thought,_ he needed a few minutes to get his mind out of the gutter and slow his pulse down_. He'd seen the Chinese symbols tattooed on her shoulder as she disappeared through the door to her bedroom and couldn't help wondering if she had any more. _That'll be interesting to find out,_ he mused, and just as quickly cursed himself for getting himself more worked up.

It didn't take long for Rebecca to get herself ready, grabbing her Puffa jacket to go over a nice, red, stretch velvet top and smart trousers. Neat ankle boots and her trusty Rangers cap completed her look, as she stuffed her purse, cell and keys into the inner pocket of the jacket. Not too smart, but nice enough to get away with dinner anywhere other than the smartest restaurants. Plus, she wouldn't look over-dressed at the Madison Sq Garden. She opened the door to her bedroom and announced her presence to Flack, who was sitting, lost in thought.

_He looks good_, she thought, _dressed in a navy granddad vest shirt and his jeans. _His black reefer jacket was slung over the armrest of her couch. He looked up and grinned at her appreciatively. He put down his bottle of beer and stood up. He crooked his arm and Rebecca put hers through his. She smiled up at him, before standing on tip-toes to kiss him on the cheek.

"Let's go," she said.

**CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY**

They reached Midtown in plenty of time for a quick bite to eat. Rebecca was pretty thankful that Flack had already picked The Ginger Man in East 36th Street, a short, yet romantic walk from MSG. They had wandered into the den at the back and had some pretty good food. It hadn't surprised Rebecca in the slightest that Flack had gone straight for a portion of the Guinness stew. She guessed he went there as often as he could on game nights, his schedule allowing.

After eating and enjoying some nice beers, they'd walked to the Hockey venue. Rebecca hadn't complained in the slightest when Flack had taken her hand at first, before wrapping his arm around her shoulder, smiling down at her as her own arm had snaked around his waist. Rebecca felt she was aged about seventeen again. It was a good feeling. The whole thing was totally relaxed, not like all the dates with the trust fund jerks her parents thought were acceptable. Those dates were either peppered with talk from guys who thought they were the bees' knees or they didn't say a word at all, being so nervous, sometimes getting so drunk they got stupid. No, this date with Don Flack had to rate up in her top ten. Scratch that, top one.

Once they took their seats, waiting for the first period to ruck off, Don caught a glimpse of some familiar figures sitting a couple of rows behind them. He pulled his own cap down over his eyes and hissed at Rebecca to do the same.

"Why?" she asked, looking in the direction Flack had glanced in, her eyes widening as she saw what he had.

She shouldn't have been surprised.

Booth was a huge Capitals fan after all and the Rangers _were_ playing them that night.

But _two rows_ behind them (with empty seats immediately behind her and Flack?). Yeah, that'd be about right.

And she hadn't turned back around quickly enough. They'd been seen and now the dynamic DC duo was changing rows to the empty seats right behind them. Bones beamed as she realized where Booth was moving them to. Bones was a big fan of hockey. Glancing at Flack, she noticed him roll his eyes heavenward.

Rebecca guessed he was reliving the _delightful_ occasion he'd met her in Trace. Rebecca prayed she wasn't going to say anything _else._

Mercifully, Bones was pretty quiet, although she and Booth made some good-natured jibes about the Rangers, which Rebecca and Flack returned with quips of their own about the Capitals. A good-natured wager regarding the outcome of the game just _had_ to be made.

And the four of them enjoyed the game. The men made themselves useful entertaining their ladies and getting them refreshments and Rebecca managed to get Flack hot under the collar with her comments about Henrik Lundqvist. Nothing like a little jealousy to make sure you knew _exactly_ where you stood with a man, she mused.

Flack, for his part, knew what he was going to get her for her birthday, or Christmas, whichever came first; a hockey shirt, with her favorite player's name on the back.

In fact, everything went really well until midway through the third period (although seeing as the home team were wiping the floor with the visitors, Booth probably didn't share that opinion), when Bones just _had_ to open her mouth.

"Did you know," she said, "That there is a scientifically proven link between violence and an increase in sexual desire?"

Booth groaned.

"_Bones!"_ he said, "Not again!"

"But I've said it before!" Bones protested, "Sweets didn't say it was inappropriate then!"

"Yes," said Booth, "But you hadn't already managed to make some truly _spectacular_ observations on that occasion!"

"Yes, Booth, but I wasn't directing my comments at Rebecca and the detective in particular this time," she said.

Flack had slowly turned round to look at Bones, like he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. Rebecca had hunkered into her chair, ears into her jacket, pulling her hat down over her nose. The exchange had been noted by fellow spectators sitting near them.

"You know," said Booth, "Much though I want to watch the end of the total annihilation of my boys by yours, Bones and I have to catch the red-eye flight back to DC tomorrow."

He stood and put his jacket on, before pulling Bones to her feet.

"Let me know the result, detective, and we can settle up on our bet another time," he finished, before making towards the exit with a somewhat annoyed Bones. Bones did like her violence and had merrily hurled insults at members of the Rangers team who had landed up in the sin bin. Probably not a wise thing to do when surrounded by home team supporters, but Bones had felt pretty secure in the company of Booth and two of New York's finest.

Flack snuck a glance at Rebecca after the other two had left. He saw she was frantically trying to smother her laughter.

"I take it she's always like that?" he asked.

"Pretty much," said Rebecca, "The last time she came out with that comment was at a game between the Washington PD and the FBI. I didn't know whether Sweets was going to pass out or choke on his slushy first."

Flack laughed.

"She's quite a handful," he surmised.

"Yeah," said Rebecca, "And let's not even get started on the subject of her love life!"

They both laughed and watched the rest of the game, the Rangers bringing home a comfortable win against the visitors.

Afterwards, they had a couple of drinks in a local bar, before heading back to their building on the subway. Although it was late and the car was virtually empty, Rebecca snuggled up close to Flack, who smirked and put his arm around her.

And they stayed that way until their stop.

**CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY CSINY**

**I know, I was going to do the aftermath of the date as well, but I'm really tired and I want to watch some more CSI:NY before bed – S05.04 was just hilarious – I woke up my roommate laughing so hard over Flack and the dolls….**

**Stop by and click the little button before you go! And yes, there really is a bar called the Ginger Man that serves Guinness Stew where I say it is, so there! One day, I'll be eating that stew before a game myelf……………**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11 – Grandma Flack's Rules of Dating**

**First up, thanks for all the lovely reviews of the last chapter… sorry I never mention all you guys by name, but you all know who you are and I REALLY appreciate all your support for my little endeavor here!**

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing bar the Rhodes family.**

**CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY**

Flack had to admit there was something pretty special about the beautiful woman snuggling into his side with a happy smile on her face.

If he was being honest, he'd never felt quite this way about any woman before, although Angell had come pretty close.

She was feisty, bright, gorgeous and he knew he'd barely scratched the surface of getting to know her. He was pretty sure that even in fifty years, she'd still be able to surprise him. And she'd probably be able to still kick his ass on occasion if she played dirty. Flack smiled at the image of a 70+ year old Rebecca managing to take him down.

Hang on, he was thinking about still being with Rebecca in _fifty years?_ It didn't actually seem that scary.

They got off the subway and walked back to their apartment building. He held Rebecca's hand in his pocket. He had the strongest feeling that he just didn't want to let it go.

All of which meant he was gonna have to bring Grandma Flack's Rules of Dating into play.

**CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY**

Rebecca had enjoyed the whole evening. She'd enjoyed the meal; enjoyed the game. She'd even enjoyed the Bones and Booth show. But she knew it was mostly because of the company.

Now Rebecca had been on dates. She'd even had a couple of boyfriends before, but none of them compared to this incredibly sexy, funny, dedicated man. Certainly none of them had ever had the kind of blue eyes that just grabbed her attention and made the rest of the world disappear into nothing. She liked the whole package. In fact, even if he'd supported the NY Islanders she thought she'd still like him.

And now she was looking forward to his making good on the promise he'd made in the elevator that afternoon.

**CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY**

He found his keys and let them both in. They both walked slowly up to the third floor, still hand in hand. As they got to her door, he paused for a moment, before Rebecca tugged at his hand and continued down the corridor, with a smile on her lips. Flack smiled too. _So she hadn't forgotten,_ he thought.

He let them both in. He took Rebecca's coat like a proper gentleman. He ushered her to the couch and he got them both a bottle of beer. Then he turned on the TV, flicked through the channels until he found an old black and white movie, turned the volume down low and put his arm around Rebecca's shoulder. She kicked off her boots and curled up next to him, her head on his shoulder and sipped her beer.

Neither of them was paying any real attention to the movie.

Both of them were aware just how close the other was.

Flack didn't dare make a move. He decided to let Rebecca take the lead, if that's what she was going to do.

He didn't have to wait long.

He listened to her sigh a couple of times and nestle closer. He felt her hand on his chest, gently moving in circles. He smirked and then swallowed as he felt her nails lightly graze him through his thin cotton shirt. He pretended he hadn't noticed.

_Like hell._ His whole body was starting to feel like it was tightly spun. Still, he had to see what she'd do next. He didn't have long to wait.

Rebecca suddenly sat up. She took the beet out of his hand and laid both bottles on his coffee table. Before he knew what she was doing, she'd straddled his lap and taken his face in her hands.

And then she kissed him. Softly and sweetly. Flack put his arms in the small of her back and pulled her closer to him, opening their mouths and deepening the kiss. He heard a small sound of pleasure come from the back of Rebecca's throat as he gently explored her mouth with his tongue. She explored right back. It took all the willpower and strength in Flack's mind _not _to start moving his hands up from her waist, but he was pretty determined to follow the Rules.

So when Rebecca moved her hands to his waist, pulled his T from his jeans and started to explore his washboard abs, he broke the kiss, grabbed her wrists and returned her hands to his thighs. His breathing was starting to get a little labored. Rebecca frowned at him.

"Did I do something wrong?" she asked, her voice starting to falter a little. _Maybe she'd been going a little too fast_.

"No," Flack reassured her. He pulled her forward so she could, well, _feel_ for herself just how little she's been doing wrong and how much she'd been doing right. Rebecca's eyes widened when she felt just _how_ much he'd been enjoying their little make-out session.

In fact, it had been a vey long time since Flack had been so turned on by _just_ making out.

"Baby," he said, putting a finger under her chin and raising her face so that he could look deep into her brown eyes, "You didn't do anything wrong. I just gotta explain the rules to ya."

Rebecca looked confused. _Rules?_

Flack pulled her close and rubbed her back.

"When I was a little boy," he began, "My grandma told me that I'd probably fool around with a lot of girls." He grinned at the memory, "In fact, I _know_ what she was trying to _really_ say." _Good job,_ he thought, _that she never knew about Bianca and the back of his dad's car_.

Rebecca was eyeing him suspiciously. He cleared his throat and continued.

"And she told me that one day I would meet someone really special. Who I'd want to take things really slow with, to get to know them. Someone I would care about and who would just, well, rock my world."

Rebecca smiled shyly. Flack was encouraged.

"And she told me, however old I was, I had to take things _really_ slow. She told me some _rules_."

Rebecca raised an eyebrow. Flack pursed his lips a little and fixed her with a stern look as her hands began moving again. He grabbed them and looked her straight in the eye, his own eyes gleaming.

"First rule – hands do not go under the clothes or anywhere above or below the waist on the first date."

Rebecca opened her mouth to protest, but Flack held up his hand. She shut it again.

"Second rule – the bases do not tally with each date. The fourth date does not necessarily mean fourth base."

Rebecca colored. She knew what fourth base was.

"Third rule – you treat the girl of your dreams as the most precious thing you've ever had the good fortune to come across. You spoil her, you treat her right, you care about her."

Rebecca blushed faintly and smiled.

"Those are Grandma's rules and I'm sticking to them as far as you're concerned," said Flack. He grinned.

"So we can keep making out so long as you keep your hands to yourself!" he finished.

Rebecca giggled and threw herself into a hug with him. Which soon turned steamy, as he pulled her down onto the couch and started kissing her again, gently touching the areas that Grandma had thought was OK for a first date.

And when things started to get heated again, he pulled away from her mouth and started to nip her earlobe. The way she moaned at this touch and arched towards him told him all he needed to know.

"Babe," he whispered raggedly into her ear, "Trust me, when we get to fourth base," he pulled back to look in her eyes, so she could see the look of determination in his eyes, "And we _will_, it will be all the better. But trust me, you're gonna know you're all mine."

And Rebecca just smiled and pulled him back down to her again.

**CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY**

It wasn't all that much later that Flack called a halt to the evening, while he still could. Rebecca protested, even though it had gotten pretty late while they had their fun.

Flack, being the perfect gentleman, escorted her down the hall, kissed her some more as he pressed her up against her door, before he unlocked it (as Rebecca was in no fit state to fit the right keys to the right lock) and gently kissed her goodnight.

He had one helluva smile on his face as he walked back to his own apartment, even though he knew his dreams were going to be more x-rated than ever.

Rebecca, meanwhile, had collapsed into a pile on the other side of her closed door _again_, thinking two things.

One, about how her dreams were going to go that night.

And two, what she had to report to Angell over coffee the next morning.

Plus she needed to talk to her friend about tactics!

**CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY**

**OK guys, that was my first attempt at that kind of scene…do I need to re-rate to an M yet? Was it OK? You know how much I love it when you press the little button and tell me what you think!**

**Flack + handcuffs? What do y'all reckon?????**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12 – Lost in You**

**Yes folks, last chapter, I'm guessing if that had been ANY of us, we'd have gone looking for a set of handcuffs and had our wicked way with the handsome, blue-eyed detective, but then again, I think Rebecca might just have been too distracted to form ****that**** coherent a thought!**

**Thanks for all the reviews – a shout out to my girls as always!**

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. Bar Rebecca. As always, Alliance/Bruckheimer/CBS own everything bar the song titles!**

**And seeing as there's been nothing but praise for the last chapter (and much mention of handcuffs), do read on. But be warned…**

**NOW RATED AS AN M STORY AS I CAN'T GUARANTEE WHAT REBECCA AND FLACK MIGHT DO NEXT! IF YOU DON'T WANNA KNOW, DON'T READ ON!**

**People, there is a MAJOR season 5 spoiler in this chapter!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**

**CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY**

Flack woke the next morning feeling pretty good with the world. The light was pouring into his bedroom and he stretched.

Admittedly, his dreams concerning one CSI Rhodes has been extremely x-rated the night before, despite his _very_ cold shower before he's gone to bed the night before.

He wasn't complaining though. Her reaction to him the night before had caused his imagination to go into overdrive.

Right about now, he was imagining her naked. Beside him. Slowly waking up, turning towards him, with that lazy smile on her face that promised oh so much.

And already he could feel his body starting to react. Painfully.

Swallowing hard, Flack dragged himself out of bed and into the bathroom. Stepping into the shower, he set the temperature control to cold, even though the autumn weather was starting to drop the temperature in his apartment. Shivering at the cold blast of water beading across his body, he tried _very hard_ not to imagine Rebecca in the shower with him, uh, _assisting_ him. Swearing ever so slightly, Flack placed one hand on the tiled wall of the shower, while the other took care of some morning business. Cold showers sometimes didn't _quite_ deal with his imagination it seemed.

**CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY**

Rebecca was studying the text she'd gotten from Flack first thing, _probably while he was still in bed_, she thought, before groaning at the thought. Since she'd seen him in the locker room at the lab after that run, she'd had a whole lot of visual imagery with which to fuel her fantasies, most of which recently had involved a mostly naked Flack, towel round his waist, coming towards her, water droplets in his hair and then the towel slipping leaving him wearing nothing more than his sexy and devastating smile.

Of course, handcuffs featured quite heavily in some of her daydreams too. Sometimes he cuffed her, other times she cuffed him. She got the impression that he wouldn't be averse to either scenario. Sometimes she imagined him totally out of control; pushing her up against the wall, kissing her like there was no tomorrow, pulling her up against him, his hands fisting in her clothes before removing them altogether. Other times, she imagined him slow and patient, gently stroking her and touching her until she started begging him to just _not_ stop.

Rebecca may not have had the world's hugest amount of experience when it came to men, but she could read _Cosmo,_ not to mention the fact that she and a whole lot of other girls in her year had spent a lot of time hiding _Silhouette_ romance novels that they'd checked out from the public library (or found in their mother's bedstands), learning a whole lot about sex that all the men of her acquaintance simply didn't seem to have. Rebecca got the distinct impression that Don Flack was not one of those men. Judging from his kisses, she could tell he was a man who liked to do _everything_ well. And he'd promised she was going to find out just _how_ well.

Rebecca, sitting at the kitchen island in her apartment, took a long sip of her hot java coffee. And then swallowed.

Yes, in all honesty Rebecca could put her hand on her heart and say she'd never had such a great time with her fantasies. Then again, she'd never had such great _real_ experience to draw on.

According to the text message, Flack was going to pick her up and drive her to work this morning. Although, she thought wickedly, how the hell either of them were going to concentrate in that close proximity to each other she didn't know.

Flipping open her cell, she texted Angell, asking her to meet her for coffee at the stand just outside the precinct building, entitling the text _911_!

Then, there was a knock at the door. Dumping the rest of the cup's contents down the sink, Rebecca grabbed her backpack and headed for the door. Her hands were shaking slightly as she unlocked the door, to see her favorite detective standing there, looking sharp in a suit and a terrible tie as always, with a soft grin tugging the corners of his mouth up. He leaned in and softly kissed her, with an intensity that took her breath away. As he pulled away from her, Rebecca slowly opened her eyes to look into his.

"Morning beautiful," he said.

Rebecca just smiled like an idiot, unable to stop herself.

**CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY**

Waiting for Angell at the coffee stand, tapping her foot furiously, Rebecca glanced at her cell again.

_Five minutes_, it read, _subway is murder this morning!_

Then she heard someone shout her name and she looked up to see the tall, slim detective waving her hand to get her attention, just a short distance away. Rebecca turned to the vendor and ordered a double tall latte for her.

Angell couldn't keep the wicked grin from her face. She grabbed the coffee and then pulled Rebecca so that they landed on the bench just outside the door to the lab.

"So," demanded Angell, "I want _details_!"

Rebecca sipped her coffee slowly, knowing that the suspense was killing her new friend.

"It was good," she said, then smiled. "It was better than good, it was perfect!"

Rebecca grinned.

"_And???"_ said Angell impatiently, "Is there anything else to report?"

Rebecca smirked, thinking back to the _very_ pleasant time she'd had with Flack on his couch.

"There may have been kissing…" she tailed off. Angell whooped for joy.

"And???" she asked, knowing there must be more to it. Rebecca frowned slightly.

"Then he pulled the Grandma Flack rules on me," she said, pouting into her coffee. Angell didn't reply. She was looking at Rebecca in stunned silence.

"Uh, Jess?" said Rebecca, "You gonna say something?"

"He. Cited. Grandma. Flack?" Angell said, slowly.

"Yeah. Why?"

"Oh the man has definitely got it _bad!_" said Angell, laughing, "Because he's never cited Grandma Flack to _any_ girl that I know of before !"

Rebecca nearly choked on the mouthful of coffee she was swallowing. Angell thumped her on the back.

"Now, Bec, details!" said Angell, so Rebecca told her all about the evening before and the events of the morning thus far.

_They'd barely spoken during the drive, although they'd occasionally looked at each other. Then, quite out of the blue, Flack had reached over and placed his hand firmly on her thigh. Rebecca had taken a sharp intake of breath, before looking at him. They had stopped in traffic. He'd looked her right in the eye as his thumb had started to gently move in circles on her pant-covered leg. Rebecca had swallowed. Hard. Then the traffic had started again and he'd removed his hand to change gears, pulling out into the traffic in the direction of their workplace. Rebecca's mind had turned to mush. She couldn't think straight._

_They'd pulled into the underground parking garage at the precinct and Flack had purposefully pulled into a parking space well away from his normal one. As Rebecca had reached for and opened the door, Flack had suddenly lunged across her and pulled the door closed before pulling her into his arms, then kissing her with a passion he hadn't quite used on her before, his hand at the back of her head, tangling in her hair. She'd been about to pull off his suit jacket, not caring where they were, or that they were probably being caught on CCTV right then and there, when he pulled back, looking with satisfaction at her dazed expression and swollen lips._

"_I will see __**you**__later," he'd said, before quickly exiting the vehicle and opening her door. He'd had one hand firmly in the small of her back as they both walked into the building. He'd left her in the elevator with a quick wink and a smirk, as she continued on her way up to the 35__th__ floor._

_It had taken a great deal of effort to pull herself together. Adam had had to call her name three times to get her attention over some evidence._

Rebecca shook her head, trying to clear it so she could focus. Angell was open-mouthed.

"Ya know," Angell said, "We'd flirt a little at work, but _anything_ else was strictly off premises."

_This,_ thought Rebecca, _was very interesting information._ She stood up. Angell followed.

"But, much though I want to keep on discussing our favorite blue-eyed boy," said Angell, "We gotta get back to making sure the streets stay safe for ungrateful New Yorkers!"

Rebecca laughed, following her friend back into the building.

Angell, of course, had not been able to resist sending a Flack-Bec status report to Danny, which had had him whooping in triumph and doing a little victory dance all round the lab, till Stella told him to get back to work.

**CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY**

Over the course of the next few weeks, Flack had kept his word about taking things slowly. They'd seen a lot of each other; he'd taken her out for some nice meals, both casual and smart.

Sometimes they'd stayed in, just eating take-out, watching sports or movies.

Invariably, things got heated. Sometimes they made it back to one of their apartments. Sometimes they didn't.

On one occasion, Rebecca had spent dinner in a nice restaurant in TriBeCa running her foot up Flack's leg to the point where he'd dragged her down the nearest alley after they'd left and things had gotten _really_ hot and heavy, as he'd kissed her lips and her neck, sucking gently on sensitive spots, finally slipping his hands under her sheer silk blouse, dragging little cries from her throat as he pushed her roughly against a wall.

And then he'd stopped, smirking at the look of frustrated passion in her eyes, wagging a finger at her when she'd reached for him to pull him back to her. That had caused a small cry of frustration to escape her lips.

He'd punished her over the next few days with only a few chaste pecks on the lips.

Another night, when she'd finally succeeded in getting Flack's hands _all_ the way under her top and _him _moaning at the feel of her soft skin under his hands, she'd reciprocated by unbuttoning his shirt and had managed to start kissing his chest, gently tugging at the hairs on his chest. She'd felt him press himself between her legs and she'd moaned a little, welcoming the feel of all of him weighing on top of her. She'd felt the evidence of his passion pressed against her and she'd whispered how much she wanted him in his ear, gently biting on his earlobe. He'd stopped moving then. His hands had grabbed the cushion her head was resting on, shaking a little with the passion he felt. Then he'd pulled himself off of her and put his hands behind his head, as though he didn't dare to touch her. His eyes had been closed, his breathing hard, as he'd struggled to regain the control he'd so nearly lost. When she'd tentatively put her hand on his shoulder, he'd covered it with his own and looked deeply into her eyes and said one little word.

"No."

Yet another night, with only some mild and gentle making out on his couch had led to him standing up, insisting on getting her home. When she'd stretched out, yawning and smiling like the proverbial Cheshire cat, saying she was going to stay right where she was, Flack's face had taken on a look of determination, as he'd bent down, picked her up into a fireman's lift and then carried her, squealing, down the corridor to her own apartment. He'd opened her door, carried her into her bedroom and dumped her unceremoniously into the center of her own bed. Mind you, thought Rebecca, he hadn't been quick enough to pull away and she'd managed to drag him down on top of her, wrapping her legs around his waist and kissing him with as much passion as she could muster. _That_, she thought, had nearly broken him and on that occasion, he'd actually ripped off her t-shirt so that he could get better access to her. That had got her moaning and arching her back off the bed so his lips could suckle more of her soft skin.

But again, he'd managed to pull away. He wouldn't let her hands go anywhere near his belt so that she could, uh, _return the favor. _And he kept his own hands, thus far, above the waist.

Rebecca was getting desperate.

After several weeks of plain, old-fashioned teasing she had had enough. And she wanted payback.

She needed to phone a friend.

Angell was now on speed dial.

**CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY**

The next morning had found the duo in their usual spot by the coffee stand. Rebecca had taken up running again, in addition to all the cold showers, to try and use up some of her excess energy. It wasn't really working.

She gave a rundown of everything that had been happening to Angell, who had listened. Angell had thought on the matter.

"So what do you want to do" she asked Rebecca.

"Get my own back," Rebecca had muttered, "And really force the damn issue! I mean, I appreciate him taking things slow, but there's only so much _slow_ a girl can take! I want him already!"

She buried her face in her hands. Angell patted her on her back.

"He's just as frustrated as you, Bec," she said, "He chewed out a uni for making inappropriate comments about you yesterday."

Rebecca looked up, interested.

"You'd just walked through the precinct after you'd interrogated that dealer with Mac and one of the rookies made some comment about how fine you were and how he'd like to spend a blue flu day with you. Unfortunately, he made it within earshot of Don. The desperate detective nearly ripped him a new asshole and put him on report."

"Oh no!" said Rebecca (although secretly pleased with Flack's jealousy).

"The stupid rookie's going to be directing traffic in Midtown for a while," replied Angell, sipping her coffee.

"Jess, what the hell am I going to do!" wailed Rebecca.

Angell wiped the milk foam off the inside of her takeaway cup and sucked on her finger thoughtfully.

"Leave it with me," she said, "I'll come up with a plan."

**CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY**

Rebecca didn't have long to wait. That afternoon, sitting in the break room, eating her lunch and perusing a case file, she became aware of a shadow looming over her. Looking up, she saw Angell, a fierce look on her face. Angell dropped something onto her lap. Before she could look closely, Angell bent down spoke to her.

"_Don't_ look at them," she hissed, "Go hide my second best pair of handcuffs in your locker. Quick, before Messer sees you!"

Rebecca looked down and saw the handcuffs, with the key, laying in her lap. In her hurry to get up, she spilled her Snapple all over the case file.

"For God's sake, woman!" Angell almost shrieked, "I'll clear it up, just get those things into your bag!!"

Rebecca had scurried from the break room as quick as she could, managing to get them into her locker and closed it, just as Stella came into the locker room and opened her own locker, right next to Rebecca's.

"You ok, kid?" she'd asked, seeing the rabbit-trapped-in-headlights expression on her face.

Rebecca had barely been able to squeak an affirmative, before running out of the room, back to Angell.

Angell had given her just one piece of advice: Go for _both_ hands.

Later on, at home, weighing the "bracelets" in her hand, Rebecca had smirked. She knew exactly what she was going to do with _these_.

**CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY**

Reviewing the events of the evening much later, Flack supposed he had _maybe_ lost some of his detecting skills when he spent time around Rebecca.

She'd seemed so, well, _well-behaved_, when he'd knocked at her door, bearing pizza and beer.

She'd invited him in. They'd eaten. She hadn't said a word about the previous night.

_That_, he thought, _should have been the biggest clue that she was up to something._

She'd put on some music. He hadn't been paying attention to what and then she'd placed herself on his lap and started kissing him.

They'd been slow kisses, almost drug-like in their sweetness and he'd gotten so into them he hadn't noticed one of her hands leave his arms. He also probably shouldn't have let her take the lead either. His hands had remained by his side.

Then he'd felt something cold around his wrist. He'd heard a sharp click. His eyes had flown open and he'd lunged forward, which unfortunately had allowed Rebecca access to his other hand and she'd cuffed that too, his hands behind him. He'd sat back on her couch, slightly defeated. Rebecca had gotten up and stood just looking at him, with a wicked little smile playing on her lips.

And that's when he'd known he was _really_ in trouble.

She bent over him, careful not to touch him and then she'd whispered to him in his ear _exactly _what she had in mind.

She wanted to taste him. All of him. And she was going to. And she'd assured him he was going to like it.

She'd broken off all of his protests with more kisses and to be fair, he didn't have the heart to stop her. He knew what she was going to do and the thought had made him beyond ready for what she had in mind.

As she'd opened his shirt, she'd licked and kissed as she exposed each inch of skin as she undid each button. Then she'd pulled his shirt _slowly_ out of his trousers. She'd run her hands over his stomach, scars and all, stopping to lave each of his battle wounds with her tongue.

When he'd protested that she was moving too fast, she'd threatened to gag him with his tie, so he'd shut up then, just letting what she was doing turn him on even more. He'd felt himself get harder, more so than he'd ever been.

He'd groaned. She hadn't even touched him there yet and already he could feel beads of sweat forming on his forehead and temples. She's raised herself over him, kissing and touching him, teasing him, getting to know every single, delectable inch of the sexy detective.

When she'd put her hand on his belt and raised and eyebrow, he'd just nodded, biting his lip, the muscles in his neck cording with strain as he'd thrown his head back. He'd felt her small hand lightly rub down the zipper of his trousers. He'd watched the seductive smile toy at her lips as she'd felt the evidence of his need for her under her fingers. She'd bitten her own lip and Flack had closed his eyes, the sound of the snap of his trousers never sounding louder than at that moment. Then he'd heard the sound of the zipper being pulled down and a slight release of pressure on his nether regions. He'd moaned then and the little vixen had leaned forward and swallowed it in a kiss.

When she'd tugged at his pants to pull them down, he'd lifted his hips to help her. He hadn't been able to do anything else. When she'd gone for his boxers as well, he'd muttered an oath that had made her smile. She had been _so_ careful not to touch him there. Not yet.

She'd touched his legs, scraped her nails across the sensitive part of his inner thighs and it had felt both good and like fire was spreading all across him. He'd hissed at how good her touch felt.

And then he'd closed his eyes, because he didn't think he could take much more of this. She'd teased him some more and then, finally she'd touched him and he'd nearly leapt off the couch. He'd been begging as he felt her hands on him, begging for her to stop, to not stop, to uncuff him so he could touch her, _anything_, most of it not coherent.

And all she'd done was smile and keep up the small movements of her hand. And he'd closed his eyes again, reveling in how good it felt.

Then he'd felt her body heat move away from him. He hadn't been expecting what happened next.

He'd felt the warm heat, the touch of her tongue along with her hand and he'd sworn loudly.

He'd groaned as she licked, sucked and nipped and all he could think was that he wasn't _ever_ going to tease her like he had again. Well, not in the sense of leaving her unsatisfied.

Although this was a _lot_ of fun.

As she'd felt his hips start to jerk towards her and his muttering become incoherent, she'd climbed into his lap again and used her hands on him. In between kisses, she'd whispered in his ear, urging him on to his satisfaction.

And then, finally, with a groan and a shudder, he'd spilled, hot, into her hands.

She'd held him close for a moment, kissing the top of his head, before going to get the necessaries to clean him up, which she had done, oh so gently, before kissing him and uncuffing his hands.

He'd pulled her into his lap, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead against hers, just breathing. Then he'd opened his eyes to look into hers, all the emotion of just how amazing what she had done for him felt readable on his face. She'd helped him put his clothes right before asking him if he wanted to stay the night.

He'd joked that he would be no use to her and she'd smiled and said it was OK. Plus, he had to remember the rule, she'd reminded him, to keep his hands to himself, lest Grandma Flack turn in her grave.

He'd been so relaxed, he'd just pulled her into his arms and they'd both drifted off to sleep, dimly aware that she was stroking his forearm, which he had wrapped around her waist as he spooned with her.

Although he'd kissed her awake in the morning, he'd quickly left, just in case he misbehaved. But he promised her he was getting his own back later.

Angell found a grande extra shot latte waiting for her on her desk when she started her shift that morning.

**CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY**

**OK, that's the first scene like that I've ever written and it's been taking shape in my mind, oh since I saw S5.20 (giggles).**

**Hope you like it – be nice!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13 – Fun for Me**

**The chapter title comes from a song by an old band called Moloko and it's one of the sexiest things I've ever heard. Listen to a snippet on iTunes and let me know what you think. It's very much the soundtrack to this chapter, if you know what I mean!**

**Thanks for making my day and getting me all the way to 75 reviews. My cousin had to put up with me victory dancing all round her kitchen this afternoon. She thinks I'm quite mad now. That and getting back into my size 12 pants this morning has set my day as A1!**

**I'd also like to say that I think trashing other people's fics, just because you don't like their OC's/storylines/AU's is out of order. So is picking on defenseless people to have a go too. Not cool. We all need to respect each other's imagination and storylines. There's a lot of talent on this site. We don't need for any of it to go elsewhere. That's my rant done. **

**I understand that some of you thought the last chapter was really OK. I'm very pleased. Cold showers all round? ;)**

**On with the show!**

**CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY**

Flack was struggling a little with the morning crossword, sitting at his desk, otherwise minding his own business. Or as far as he could, seeing as every now and then his dirty, perverted mind went back to the things Rebecca had done with her hands and mouth the previous evening.

And to what his dirty, perverted mind was coming up with for her as payback for the absolutely exquisite torture shed inflicted on him. He shuffled a little uncomfortably in his chair as the memories – and his imagination - caused certain parts of his anatomy to start stirring.

_Down boy,_ he thought. He focused on clue 3 down; _what the hell was another name for a white blood cell?_ Damn science geeks and their freakin' touch clues.

His attention was further distracted by the doors swinging open and his colleague, good friend, ex-girlfriend and sometime work partner sashayed her way into the precinct, getting the usual amount of male attention from uniforms, detectives and perps alike. A slow wolf whistle came from somewhere.

"Bite me!" said Angell, in the general direction of the appreciative sound, as she came closer to Flack's desk. She stopped right in front of him and dumped a familiar take-out cup in front of him, followed by the creamer and a couple packs of sugar.

"Thanks," muttered Flack, taking off the lid and dumping the contents of the sugar packs and creamer carton into his coffee, before stirring it with a pen.

"Good night, Detective," asked Angell, entirely too innocently.

Flack's eyes met hers with a hard stare, wondering what on earth she could possibly know, but before he could say anything, Angell had spotted the large reusable take-out coffee cup-come-thermos that was sitting in the middle of her desk. She dashed over and opened the lid, taking a long sip from it with obvious pleasure. Her cell beeped and she checked the message before smirking.

"Someone love ya?" asked Flack.

"Not exactly," she said, "Just appreciative for some, uh, assistance I gave them in a certain matter," she replied.

Before Flack could ask what the matter was or the assistance she's rendered, a call came

from dispatch about two homicides, sending both detectives off in different directions.

**CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY**

The break room on the 35th floor was a little crowded. It was filled with female lab rats cooing over the cutest baby and even Sid had appeared from the autopsy room in the bowels of the building to admire the latest addition to the lab family. Lindsay Messer had brought in her baby girl for the team to see. Mac hadn't had the heart to tell everyone to get back to work. Stella, of course, had taken possession of the little one as soon as Lindsay had got to the 35th floor and was cuddling the little girl, murmuring to her in Greek, the little girl smiling and grabbing one of Stella's curls with her little hand. Danny was watching the scene with amusement, grinning at the sight of all the women (and not a few of the men) falling in love with his little, blue-eyed girl. Adam and Hawkes, men that they were, were standing by the coffee machine, maintaining what they called a "safe, fall-out distance" from the rest of them, but Mac was standing close by Stella, a smile on his face as he watched his close friend and partner muttering away happily to the little girl, who by now was shoving her little fist into the detective's mouth. Stella blew a raspberry at her, which got a big smile in response.

Lindsay was watching the scene with amusement and she was also taking the opportunity to size Rebecca up. From what she had heard from Danny, the pretty girl had managed to snare Flack completely. She'd liked the girl instantly, not least because she'd got the measure of Danny in the gym. Oh yes, Lindsay had heard all about _that_ before Danny had even got home. Danny hadn't been amused at Lindsay's uncontrollable laughter over it.

Lindsay had already taken the opportunity to invite Rebecca over for dinner, an invitation she'd readily accepted. Lindsay was mentally preparing a guest list of four. Well, Flack wouldn't have far to go to collect her to bring her over, would he?

Finally, Mac cleared his throat and announced that everyone needed to get back to work, seeing as crime didn't solve itself and, reluctantly, the group had broken up. Stella had hugged Lindsay before heading back to Trace with Danny, leaving Lindsay and Rebecca alone in the break room. Rebecca had sat down next to the Montana woman, gently stroking the baby's head with a little smile on her face. Rebecca liked babies. Plainly, thought Lindsay, Louise liked her, as her little girl launched herself into Rebecca's arms. Lindsay smiled as Rebecca cuddled her little girl, named after her uncle Louie. Louise's hand was on Rebecca's face and Rebecca was pretending to eat the little hand, causing giggles from the little one. Rebecca was totally engrossed in what was going on and didn't see one tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed detective enter the area.

Flack stopped in the doorway, looking at the scene in front of him. _Rebecca, playing with babies, cute,_ he thought. He glanced at Lindsay, to see a look of amusement crossing her face. He walked swiftly over to his friend and sometime bane of his life with her smart-ass comments to grab her in a bear-hug.

"Hey Montana," he said, "Good to see you. When you coming back to work?"

Lindsay smiled, having noticed the soft look that had come across Flack's face when he'd looked at Rebecca. _Danny was right_, she thought.

"Oh, couple of weeks," she replied, "I found an awesome round-the-clock daycare center near here. They've got a space opening up in ten days then I'm back on the clock!"

"Be good to have you back," said Flack, "Just no more smart-ass comments about freakin' dolls a'right?"

Lindsay regarded him with a smug look on her face.

"Just 'cause you couldn't come up with a good enough come-back quick enough and had to imply I was crazy," she said.

Rebecca was focusing on the baby because she didn't dare look at Flack. Lindsay took the baby out of her arms.

"I gotta go," Lindsay said, "I need to get some groceries. That husband of mine grouches something awful when he's hungry, not that I'm coking tonight!"

She picked up the baby bag and her purse and parked the baby in her buggy. She hugged Flack and then hugged Rebecca, reminding her about dinner and telling her to ask Danny for the address. Then the new mom was gone, heading towards the elevators, leaving Flack and Rebecca alone in the break room.

Rebecca met Flack's stare head on. She smiled a little and was about to say something when her phone beeped with an incoming message from Angell.

"Sorry Flack," she said with a smile, "Duty calls."

And sauntered out of the room, knowing just what effect her retreating backside was having on the blue-eyed cop.

**CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY**

He didn't see her for a couple of hours.

He'd finally spotted her in the elevator. She'd been stood against the back, reading a case file, pretending not to notice him standing by the control panel. There had been quite a few others in the elevator to begin with.

One by one, floor by floor, the elevator had emptied, leaving the two of them alone. Flack had watched her toying with her hair, a smile dancing across her lips, reading the case file. If it hadn't been the right way up he'd have said she was faking it.

Then she had to go bite her lip.

Then she looked at him. He saw the wicked little look in her eyes, the suggestive smile forming on her lips. Flack was tapping his memo book against his thigh, a hard, lustful look in his eyes as he looked straight at her.

And then he was damned if she didn't look him square in the eyes, right back and _lick her lips_ at him.

That was it. He'd been transported right back to her couch, gotten hard in an instant, pushed himself off the wall of the elevator and slammed his hand on the emergency stop button.

He'd heard her throaty little laugh, which had turned him on even more, as he'd been in front of her in an instant and she'd wrapped her arms around his neck, holding on tight for the ride as he'd picked her up and slammed her back against the wall of the car, her case file falling to the floor.

She'd wrapped one leg around his waist as he'd pushed his lower half onto her and had opened her mouth willingly to his, kissing him with as much passion as he was kissing her. He'd groaned as she'd moved her mouth to his throat, his ear lobe, licking and nipping her way across his adam's apple, before returning her mouth to his to pay more attention to his. As she'd licked her way across his inner lower lip, he'd ground his hips into hers a little harder, before she'd pushed him back away from her and walked to the control panel and resumed their journey.

"Don Flack," she'd said, "What _would_ your grandma say?"

Before he could come back with a suitable response, they'd arrived at her floor, she'd picked up her file and exited the elevator, pausing once as she'd walked off, to glance back and throw him a wink.

And for the second time that day, Don had been left watching her retreating sweet ass with a smile on his lips and the hard-on from hell.

Oh he was going to get her back for this, he thought, he was going to get her _good_.

**CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY**

Later that shift, as Flack was sitting back at his desk dealing with his least favorite thing – paperwork – he saw Rebecca walk through the precinct to Angell's desk, her progress across the room followed by most of the men in it, he thought irritably. He'd watched Rebecca perch herself on a corner of Jess' desk. Then he'd watched her take something familiar out of her purse and toss them to the brunette detective. A pair of "bracelets". The detective had smirked. Flack had sat bolt upright.

"Thanks," said Rebecca, just loud enough that Flack could hear her.

"Did you get your man?" asked Angell, also just loud enough for Flack to hear. His eyes narrowed. He should have guessed that the two of them together was trouble. _Handcuffs,_ he muttered under his breath, _what was it about women and handcuffs?_

"Oh yeah," Rebecca replied, not daring to glance in Flack's direction, "And let's just say I don't think he'll be planning on, er, _holding out_ on me with any _evidence_ again any time soon."

Angell stowed her second best pair of handcuffs in the top drawer of her desk and grabbed her purse from it.

"You done?" she asked Rebecca.

"Yup. Now let's hit the stores," Rebecca replied. Angell grinned cheekily at Flack.

"What the hell are you two up to now?" he asked, annoyed.

"I'm hitting Macy's with my new bestie here," said Angell, wrapping an arm around Rebecca's shoulder and planting a wet smacker on Rebecca's lips. Rebecca grinned in response, the exchange not going unnoted by the rest of the room. Flack could hear the thoughts as though they were being said out loud.

_They didn't…._

_Oh hell…._

_They DID….Christ what an image…._

Flack knew exactly what every hot-blooded man with a pulse in the room was thinking, because he was thinking the same damn thing himself. And, unlike most of them he had carnal knowledge of one and intended carnal knowledge of the other. The thought of two girls doing the down and dirty, especially two he knew that well, was just too damn _hot_ for words. Even though he and Jess were history, he still appreciated the fact that she was one sexy woman and he swallowed. He watched the two women saunter out of the room through the swing doors, arm in arm. The two women, unseen by anyone else, had collapsed in fits of giggles just outside the precinct building.

The departure of the two women had had all eyes following them. Danny Messer, walking out of one of the interrogation rooms, reading a case file in hand, had missed the antics of the two women, but he sure as hell didn't miss what came next, just about catching mutters from around the room about the two girls.

"Shut the hell up and get your minds outta the gutter!" Flack shouted, with not a little edge of frustration to his voice, "The next person so much as _thinks_ something unprofessional about Detective Angell or Detective Rhodes is going to be given on a silver platter to the lab for a month's worth of dumpster-diving duty!"

Then he stood, grabbed his coat and strode over to Danny, who was standing there with his mouth wide open.

"You done for the day Messer?" he asked roughly.

"Yeah? Why?" asked Danny in reply.

"Then you can buy me a drink or ten at Sully's with your ill-gotten gains from that pool!" Flack ground out between his teeth.

**CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY**

Their shopping trip had been most successful. Angell and Rebecca had attacked Macy's with gusto and it was Angell who had spotted the slinky red silk wrap dress that set off Rebecca's coloring to a T. She assured Rebecca that Flack wouldn't be able to keep his hands off of her if she wore it around him.

Then the two bad girls had landed up in the NHL store, buying themselves matching St Paddy's day green t-shirts, before heading back to Rebecca's place, stopping for a slice and plenty of beers, ice-cream and popcorn on the way there.

Sometimes the impromptu girls' night sleepovers were the best.

Some loud 70s and 80s music, a chick flick or two, several beers and strange colors of nail lacquer on their toes later, the two women, dressed in their matching t-shirts and teeny boy shorts had been disturbed by a knock at the door. Rebecca was bent over, grabbing yet another couple of beers from the refrigerator.

"Can you get that Jess!" she yelled.

A slightly-the-worse-for-wear Jess Angell had danced her way to the door and flung it open.

To be confronted by the sight of Flack, a little the worse for wear himself, a six pack in hand, tie loosened. A look of shock spread across his face at the sight of Jess in her state of undress.

"I can't find anymore beers!" bellowed Rebecca, above the sound of the stereo, "Who the hell is it?"

"Your neighbor," Jess shouted back, "He's either here to borrow some coffee or to arrest us, I'm not sure which!"

Rebecca danced to the door and smiled a soppy, happy smile at the sight of Flack, whose eyes grew wider at the state of Rebecca's undress and at the fact the two of them were matching in their green Rangers' shirts. Then Rebecca wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a toe-tingling kiss, before noticing what was in his hand.

"Ooh!" she said, "Beer! Thanks Donnie!" before grabbing them and shutting the door to apartment in his face.

A stunned Flack stood there dumbly looking at the closed door in front of him for a couple of minutes. He wasn't sure what had shocked him more; the sight of Rebecca _and_ Jess in their outfits or the sight of Rebecca so tanked. He could hear the sound of laughter coming from behind the door. He slowly turned and walked down the corridor to his apartment.

_Those two_, he thought, _together_. Trouble.

Back in Rebecca's apartment, both women collapsed onto Rebecca's couch in fits of giggles.

"You stole his beer!" exclaimed Jess.

Rebecca giggled. "I know," she said, "Did you see the look on his face?"

"Yeah," laughed Jess, "And, girlfriend, you are _so_ in trouble!"

"He's really gonna make me pay for that, isn't he," agreed Rebecca, before they both twisted off the caps of their beer and chinked the bottles together before taking a swig. And collapsing against each other in fits of laughter again.

**CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY**

Jess had stayed over, too drunk to make her own way home. Fortunately, she was on a late shift the next day and Rebecca had the day off. Both women had nursed major hangovers, although they'd agreed they _had_ to do that again sometime soon.

Privately Jess thought there was no way in hell Flack was going to let her and Rebecca mess around like that, although she'd like to see him try and stop them.

Rebecca had decided to cook a nice dinner for her neighbor, ulterior motives notwithstanding. Jess had informed her that he was on an early shift, so Rebecca had gone out, bought some food, some wine and left a note taped to his door inviting him over.

She'd tidied her apartment. She'd even pulled the table from its place in the bay window to closer to the center of the room. It was laid for two, candles, napkins, wine glasses.

Then she'd taken a long shower to get ready, as dinner wouldn't take long to prepare.

Admittedly, she was worried a little that Flack wouldn't show. Only a little. Jess had called her with a sit ref on how he was acting at work.

_Tightly strung_ had been two of the words she'd used to describe his mood. _Edgy_ had been another and she'd giggled as she described the glares she'd got from Flack that day until she'd gone home.

Rebecca put the finishing touches to her appearance. Her hair was soft and shiny, with slight waves to it, the tumbling dark locks falling half way down her back. She wore a little make-up and had applied gloss to her lips, so they looked full and inviting. She smoothed her hands down the red silk wrap dress she had bought with Jess the day before, knowing that underneath was a matching silk slip and sheer, gauzy, vintage underwear from a little store in London that she had discovered with Bones on their last trip there. Sexy, black seamed hold-up stockings and pretty black heels completed her outfit.

At a quarter after seven, she was not disappointed. There was a knock at the door. She turned the lights down to dim and lit the candles on the table, before opening the door to find Flack, bottle of wine in hand. She smiled widely.

His eyes just widened at the sight of her. She stepped aside and gestured to him to enter her apartment. As he passed her he caught a whiff of her perfume; light, fruity, hints of vanilla, flowers and…blackcurrant he thought. It suited her. Much like the incredible dress she was wearing, which showed off her sexy curves to their full potential.

He could smell something delicious. Other than her of course.

She served him some wine, not their usual drink of choice, but he had to admit it was good. He sat at the table and watched her moving around the kitchen. He teased her a little about not knowing whether or not she could actually cook, seeing as they mostly ate take-out when they were together or ate out. She'd laughed, a little throaty laugh that turned him on.

She served them both a simple dish of gnocchi and pesto. And then the fun had begun.

He'd never imagined, in a million years, that someone taking such dainty bites could turn him on so much. He was transfixed by her mouth. And she knew it, exaggerating each, little bite to work him up even higher.

Somehow he'd managed to finish his meal, reasoning with himself that he thought he'd probably need the energy from the carbs later.

Then she'd stood up, cleared the plates and walked past him, brushing him slightly, on her way to the sink to dump the dishes. She'd got dessert out of the refrigerator and handed it to him to put on the table, but Flack wasn't really hungry anymore. Not for food anyway. His eyes had narrowed and as she'd passed by him on her way back to the table, he made his move.

He tugged at the bow holding the dress closed and it untied, causing the dress to open and Flack to take a sharp intake of breath. Silk on silk, any hot-blooded detective's fantasy.

She stopped dead and turned to face him, a slight flush coloring her cheeks. She raised an eyebrow.

"Is it your birthday, detective?" Rebecca asked, "It sure as shit ain't Christmas and they're the only two occasions you should be unwrapping presents on!"

Flack grinned, stood and advanced on Rebecca, who stood her ground.

"C'mere you!" he said, a little roughly.

Rebecca squealed with laughter as he grabbed her close, then moved her backwards and tumbled them both onto her couch. He settled between her thighs, her under him and his eyes darkened with promise. Rebecca's lips parted and her pupils dilated with desire. Desire for him, he thought with satisfaction.

He carefully laid the sides of her dress apart and ran a finger across the lace edge of her slip where it clung to the tops of her breasts, noticing the softness of her silky, creamy skin. He watched her shiver and arch into his touch, the man in him reveling in her sharp intake of breath at his touch and her reaction to it. He bent forward, kissing the side of her neck where he knew she had a sensitive spot and was rewarded by her moan of pleasure. He felt her move her hands up his back. He kissed her once, then twice and she kissed him back. He leaned forwards and nipped her earlobes.

"I never could wait to open my presents," he said, breathing raggedly.

**CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY**

**And I'm leaving it there because I'm just plain evil! Hope you enjoyed the fluff!! Next chapter is gonna get a little dark. I know I keep saying that, but it is, honest. Tinks, hope you like this one! X**

**Annddd….please leave message after the tone…..**


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14 – Are You Gonna Be My Girl?**

**Hi, it's the ebil smut queen here (cheers guys, you know who you are) with her usual disclaimer about not owning anything to do with Alliance/CBS/CSI NY or any of the songs whatsoever. Except of course anyone with the last name of Rhodes.**

**Had to stop where I did the last time, as I was hyperventilating at my boldness. Never mind what was going on in my imagination folks! And yes, I could hear the howls of frustrated rage here at my little ol' desk. I'm SO not sorry!!! ******

**So I'm just gonna "feel" my way and write my way through this, if you don't mind!**

**Thanks, BEG 75, for the chocolate + Flack + handcuffs. No, I didn't scroll down and read that bit first. (I think we need help lmao)**

**The visuals have been running through my head all damn day.**

**BTW The perfume is Miracle Forever, by Lancome. So's y'all know. And the lingerie is by What Katy Did.**

**MAJOR, MAJOR BAD BEHAVIOUR ALERT HERE! IF FLACK AND REBECCA GETTING IT ON OFFENDS YOU ****DON'T READ ANY FURTHER!!!!**

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY **

Flack felt Rebecca smile. She rubbed her hands up and down his forearms. He gently stroked the side of her face.

"I like this outfit," he said, "But I think I like what's underneath it more."

Rebecca giggled.

"I say something funny?" he said, pretending he was angry. He pulled her into a sitting position and started to kiss her neck, slowly pushing the dress down her arms, followed by the straps of her slip, until both garments were pooled around her waist. Then he pushed her back so she was lying on the couch again. That was when Rebecca realized her arms were trapped by the fabric.

Which, as she read the look on Flack's face, was exactly what he'd intended. For his part, he looked down and saw how sheer and see-through her bra was. Black, sheer and gauzy. He liked it. He kissed his way down Rebecca's neck, down the front of her décolleté and then gently touched her breast, a questioning look in his eye and he looked at Rebecca. She smiled in reply and then felt Don start to gently stroke her flesh.

_God,_ Rebecca thought, _this feels __**so**__ good. _She arched into his touch again and was rewarded by a masculine chuckle, followed by Don's head dipping and his taking one of her nipples into his mouth. At the feel of his lips and tongue on her, Rebecca moaned, which only resulted in Don's teeth coming into play. He gently grazed the flesh, getting another moan from the woman lying beneath him. He moved his mouth to the other nipples, paying it as much attention.

Rebecca couldn't believe what was happening. No-one had ever made her feel like this, feel the passion that was rising in her. Oh, she'd enjoyed sex before, even though she'd found it a little disappointing and, like any reasonable hot-blooded single woman in NYC, she had a couple of toys for the nights when she was lonely or frustrated. But _this?_ This was incredible. She parted her legs further, an unconscious move to let Don know what she wanted.

He lifted his head and looked her in the eye.

"I think we'd better move this to somewhere more comfortable," he said. She nodded in reply. He stood, swiftly picked her up and carried her into her bedroom. Rebecca giggled.

"Do I amuse you Dr Rhodes," Don asked.

"I just never had you pegged as a romantic," replied Rebecca, laughing, "I thought you were more likely to just push me up against the wall and have your wicked way with me."

Don's eyes gleamed.

"Not tonight, darlin'," he said, planting a little kiss on her lips, "But I promise that I'll do that if it's one of your dirty, little fantasies."

Rebecca just bit her lip and looked at him. Don kicked open the door to her bedroom and carried her to the bed. He laid her gently down, head on the pillows. Then he quickly shrugged off his shirt, his shoes and socks, before coming to kneel beside her. He pulled her into a sitting position, quickly divesting her of her dress, kissing her as he slid the red silk slip down her body, smiling as she lifted her hips to help him slide it off. She reached for his belt, but he simply kissed her and placed her arms above her head, before stroking her legs softly, heading down to take off her shoes, before whispering that he'd like her to leave them on sometime. Then he rolled down her stockings, one at a time, kissing each end of the revealed flesh as he went. Finally, he came back up beside her and he bent his lips to her. She was still in her lingerie, but she felt him undo the clasp of her bra, then her breasts spilled free into his hands.

And the fire began.

Rebecca was dimly aware she had grasped his head, kneading her fingers through his dark hair, as he'd laved her skin with his mouth again. He'd kissed her all the way down to her navel, chuckling as he'd caught sight of her tattoos. He'd paid particular attention to Lady Liberty, discovering a sensitive spot on her hip that had caused her to start panting. Then he's moved back up beside her, putting one arm around her shoulders, looking deeply into her eyes as she felt his other hand play with the waistband of her French knickers. She saw his eyes and didn't need to hear him say the words, asking permission to dip his hand underneath the silky fabric. She simply nodded and he kissed again, more deeply than he had before, passionate kisses that aroused her even more than his hands and mouth were doing.

Then she felt him reach his target and he started to stroke her most intimate parts, gently parting her legs to allow his hand more access.

She'd never experienced anything like this.

His fingers stroked, dipped within her and all the time he was whispering in her ear, telling her how she felt, how soft, how wet, how much her reaction was turning him on and Rebecca felt her orgasm start to build.

It took her by surprise. And she finally understood what all those romance writers had been talking about when they'd talked about little deaths, shooting stars and the most incredible rush of pleasure their characters had ever felt.

"_Oh God!"_ she cried. Don just chuckled.

"Not God, baby, Don," he'd said wickedly into her ear. Then he'd kissed her again, starting to move down her body. When he got to her navel, he looked up at her with a wicked grin on his lips and she realized what he had in mind. Something she'd only ready about before.

"Uh Don…?" she asked breathily.

"Yeah baby?"

"I, uh, I, well, I haven't, well that is to say…" her words were coming out in a run. Don raised his head and looked at her.

"Has no-one bothered to taste you?" he asked, in a low voice that caused her toes to curl and something to wind up tight in her stomach.

Rebecca shook her head. Don just smiled in satisfaction.

"Good," he said and turned his attention back to removing her panties completely and spreading her legs wide open. Rebecca couldn't help herself. She watched his head dip and felt him begin his task.

And then realized exactly what she'd been missing. But then again, when you were in the hands of an obvious master, who knew exactly what light little licks, long slow tastes and gently little nips did to a highly aroused woman, you were bound to figure that out pretty quickly. Rebecca's hips bucked as Don added his fingers to the mix, gently inserting two into her folds. His tongue didn't let up for a second on its ministrations. Then Rebecca discovered that something else she'd thought was seriously a myth as Don found and played gently with her G spot.

Rebecca's hips lifted clear off her bed and she screamed out. Don stilled his hand and lifted his head to look at her, a wicked grin on his face.

"Need that tie, beautiful?" he asked, referring to her antics a few nights ago where she'd threatened to gag him with one of his fugly ties to stop his protests.

Rebecca just moaned in response and Don got back to his favorite kind of work. Within seconds, Rebecca felt her second and more powerful orgasm starting. Don just kept on touching her, building it higher and higher until Rebecca blacked out for a minute with the incredible pleasure of it.

For his part, Don had never had anyone have quite the reaction Rebecca was having to his touch. He'd felt her get wetter and wetter as she'd unconsciously moved her hips gently, to allow him better access and her even more sensation.

There was something pretty satisfyingly masculine about being a girl's first, he thought.

He moved back up the bed to Rebecca's side and took her in his arms. She was breathing hard, coming down still from the sensations he'd wrought from her body. She turned her face so he could see her wide-eyed look.

"You OK?" he asked, amused.

Rebecca just stared at him.

"Earth move for you or something?" he teased.

Rebecca weakly thumped him on the arm. Don grabbed her close and they lay there for a few minutes, just breathing. Rebecca laid her head on Don's chest, just listening to the sound of his heart and his breathing. He gently moved his hand in circles on her back.

And that's when she knew just how much in love with her detective she was.

Rebecca caught her breath and moved herself away from Don a little. He was instantly a little worried.

"You OK?" he asked.

"Yeah, I just need to use the bathroom for a sec," she replied.

Rebecca slid off the bed and grabbed Flack's shirt, slipping it over her head. She put her hands under the heavy weight of hair trapped under the collar and lifted it so it fell like a waterfall down her back. Flack watched appreciatively from the bed, where he was lying with his hands behind his bed. He watched his girlfriend wander into the bathroom, pushing the door almost closed, so it was only slightly open.

In the bathroom, Rebecca leaned slightly forward, hands on the sink, looking into the mirror. She looked at her swollen lips, her messed hair and the flush on her skin. She looked like a well-satisfied woman, she thought. _Loved._ She smiled a little. Turning on the tap, she splashed a little cold water on her face. The door opened. Rebecca turned her head to see Flack standing there, still in his trousers and wife-beater, regarding her with a mixture of lust and amusement.

Looking into his eyes, Rebecca suddenly couldn't move. Maybe it was the look of burgeoning intent in his eyes or maybe it was simply the fact that _this_ man had _extremely _recently given her the two most powerful orgasms of her life, but she _just couldn't move_. As though it was all happening in slow motion, Flack padded on bare feet across the floor and grabbed her wrist. He pulled her in front of him, so her back was flush against his front and they were standing in front of the full-length mirror that Rebecca had checked her appearance in earlier in the evening. Rebecca stared at her reflection in the mirror.

Still mussed, still flushed and now her color was building. Her eyes locked onto Don's. Slowly he rubbed his arms down hers and took hold of her wrists, pulling them up and securing them behind his neck.

"Hold on, baby," he whispered in her ear, his eyes never leaving hers.

Then Rebecca watched – and felt – as Don undid each button of his shirt she was wearing so very slowly. She watched as his hands moved back to cover her breasts, his thumbs gently teasing her nipples erect again. Rebecca bit her lip, trying not to moan and let her head collapse onto Don's shoulder.

"No, baby, watch," he said in a low tone and Rebecca opened her eyes again.

She felt and watched, feeling the sensation starting to build in her again, as one of his hands started to move down, gently stroking her stomach, before sweeping down to stroke the front of her thighs.

She couldn't stop herself from moaning and gently moving her hips into his hand. Don chuckled. He knew exactly what she wanted, but he teased her for just a little longer, before, finally, his hand moved into the curls at the heart of her.

Rebecca gasped as she felt his hand just where she wanted it. She looked into his reflection in the mirror and watched him stroking her. His other hand dropped from her breast to her hip and pulled her back against him at a slight angle, forcing her legs to part a little more and allowing him more access.

"Do you need me to tell you how you feel?" Don whispered roughly in her ear, "Because I'll tell you how wet you are if you need me to."

Rebecca just moaned and arched herself into his touch, forcing his fingers further down to her folds. Don just smirked and slid two fingers into her, noticing how her back arched with pleasure. Rebecca turned her face to his and he kissed her, swallowing the cry of pleasure on her lips. Then he returned his fingers to where they had been before and started moving them faster, a little more roughly, watching Rebecca in the mirror as she responded. They watched the flush building on her skin again and the slight flutter of her abdomen as her orgasm started to build.

"Watch yourself, baby," he said roughly, kissing her neck and moving his hand faster, in time to the jerks of Rebecca's hips.

And then it happened again; Rebecca spilled over the edge, her knees buckling as Don caught her, catching her up into his arms.

She was only dimly aware that he was carrying her back into her bedroom. Lost in the afterglow of what he'd just done, she lay, replete, watching as he divested himself of his pants and wife beater, before climbing onto the bed with her, dressed only in his boxers. Like before, he lay beside her, his warm hand gently kneading her stomach, his smile gentle. He leaned forward to kiss her again.

"You OK?" he asked, a smile on his lips. Rebecca pulled his head back down to hers and gave him a long, lingering kiss in reply.

"Yeah, you're OK," he said, catching his breath as Rebecca's hands started moving down his front, stroking his scars, brushing the elastic waistband, before dipping into his boxers. His eyes darkened as Rebecca found her target and started stroking every inch of his hardness.

"You gonna let me say thank you?" she asked. Don just lifted his hips in reply, allowing her to slide the cotton boxers down his legs. He had no idea where they landed.

He watched Rebecca as she moved down his body, touching as she went. Something she was very, very good at, he thought. He let her touch him gently, a smile on her face as she saw what he had waiting for her. He felt himself twitch a little as she put her hand on him. Then he watched as she balled her long hair into her hand and dipped her head, wrapping a length of her silky hair around his very hard member and gently drawing her hand up and down, so her hair stroked the whole length of him.

Don bit his lip and threw his head back on the pillow.

"Like that?" she asked, having moved up the bed and firmly taken him in hand.

"Bec, babe," he managed to bite out, "Just. Do. It. Already," gently thrusting into her hand with each word.

And he watched as his girlfriend, _girlfriend, yeah_, smile seductively and licked her way back down his body to give him more of the same treatment she'd done before.

Except this time, when she felt him groan and start to lose control, she didn't move back up and finish him off with her hands. On the contrary, when he took her head in his hands and tried to pull her back up his body, she gently placed his hands by his side and went back to her task, sucking, licking, stroking. He felt her gently handle lower between his legs and when she stroked the sensitive area behind his balls, he thought he was going to explode.

And then, he just did. Into her mouth. He was the one now laying there panting.

He gathered Rebecca up into his arms and spooned with her, holding onto her firmly, her cute little ass tucked into his front. Then he grabbed the comforted and pulled it over them.

As Don drifted off to sleep, the only thought he was having was that the only thing better than going to sleep with this gorgeous, sexy, utterly _loveable_ creature, was waking up with her in his arms.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY **

It took Don a few minutes for figure out where he was, although the presence of the woman in his arms soon cleared up that issue. Rebecca was obviously still asleep.

He gently stroked her back.

She moaned and he stilled his hand. Then he realized she was still asleep. He heard a breathy moan come from her lips.

She was having a damn good dream, he thought.

Then he heard her moan his name and push that cute little ass into his belly, an action that had woke up certain parts of his anatomy that weren't unhappy about the situation.

He stroked one hand down her hip. He knew he'd have to wake her up soon, but damn, this was almost as hot as her _waking_ reaction to him touching her. Then he felt her grab the hand he had around her waist and guide it south.

"_Please," _she murmured, still asleep.

It took a great deal of self control for Don to stop moving his hand. He swiftly rolled them so that she was under him. He started kissing her, waking her up.

She smiled at him drowsily. She stretched under him, a movement that put his anatomy in closer contact with hers. He swallowed.

"I was having a very good dream, Detective," she said.

"I gathered that," he said roughly, trying not to notice that Rebecca was making small movements with her hips which were causing him to brush against her entrance.

"Do you want to know what we were doing?" she asked, throatily, frowning a little as his hands gripped her hips, stopping them from moving.

"I think I can guess," Don bit out sharply.

"Can you?" she asked, loosely running one leg up the back of his. Don lowered his forehead to hers.

"Babe, please," he begged, "I don't have a lot of control in the morning. I want out first time to be special."

And then Don was damned if she didn't just floor him.

"Donnie," she breathed, "If I'm with you, it doesn't matter where, it's gonna be special."

She gulped and took one of his hands and laid it over her heart.

"You've got my heart, Donnie," she said, her voice shaking, "I love you."

He looked her deep in the eyes, searching and finding that what she was saying was the truth. And he knew he felt the same way about this incredible woman.

"Same here," he said, "Got nothing but love for you!"

Rebecca giggled and pulled him close and then neither of them thought about anything else except moving together. As he slid inside her, Don thought he'd never _quite_ experienced anything so awesomely mind-blowing in his life. And as he felt Rebecca respond to his movements, starting gently, then getting harder and deeper, he realized she hadn't either.

And then neither of them was doing much thinking.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY **

Rebecca was assigned a late shift and Flack had plans with his YMCA kids, but they had enjoyed a very lazy morning getting to know each other a whole lot better.

Then he'd driven her into work, giving her a lingering kiss goodbye that had threatened to turn more passionate until she had reminded him that she wasn't game, just yet, to do the dirty in the parking garage. He'd laughed at that comment, but he'd swatted her ass gently as she'd headed towards the elevators. She'd shot him a _very_ dirty look, quickly glancing around to check whether anyone had seen them.

They'd already had a little discussion at home about keeping a lid on just how involved they now were. Rebecca wasn't anxious for their relationship to become public knowledge. Frankly, neither was Don. His and Angell's experience at the hands of IAB had taught him that; a situation he hadn't handled particularly well when Jess had confronted him about how they knew. That had been the start of the end for them, he remembered.

He got back into his car and pulled out of the lot, heading in the direction of the Y.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY **

Rebecca had managed to make it into work and then back out onto a scene without anyone commenting on her glow. Well, she corrected herself, Stella had given her a knowing look that had raised her color a bit higher, before she'd handed the girl a scarf in the locker room, suggesting she might want to cover up the evidence on her neck. Which was when, looking in the mirror, Rebecca had seen the large hickey Don had obviously given her in the throws of passion earlier that morning. Stella had just patted her on the back and told her to take a few minutes to sort it out.

_She was going to kill him_, she thought, cursing. Although seeing the mark had brought back some _very_ pleasant memories.

She and Hawkes had headed out to the scene, an alleyway in Hell's Kitchen.

The body, that of a young girl, had been dumped, obviously in a hurry. Hawkes had noticed something back on the main street and he asked Rebecca if she was OK to make a start in the alley. Unis had cleared it after all.

She'd got down to work. It was quiet, she thought, concentrating on collecting the evidence.

_Her hair's wet_, she thought, noticing the traces of brown dye on the fingers of her latex gloves, _that's odd._

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY **

Back at the lab, Danny was sitting at his desk in the communal office, piecing together a case. He was due to give evidence the next day. He glanced over to Rebecca's desk.

He was bored. The case wasn't complicated and he had no idea why Mac had insisted he review the evidence again. Actually he did. Mac had been pretty pissed over the blue flu issue, where their case had been thrown out.

He noticed a picture on the desk.

_Funny_, he thought, _I didn't notice the princess start making herself at home_.

He stood up and walked over to the desk, picking up the picture. It was of a younger Rebecca, laying down in a park, probably in DC, he thought.

She looked happy, staring up at the camera, he thought, ribbon around her neck, white party dress on, hair spread on the grass around her, framing her head.

Danny frowned. There was something strangely familiar about the pose. _Where had he seen that before?_

He was starting to get that bad feeling in his gut. The same one he'd had when he walked into the Warehouse that day.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY **

Rebecca rubbed one hand across her forehead. It was an unseasonably warm Fall day, she thought. She looked round. She'd had this feeling for a little while. That _maybe_ she wasn't alone.

_You're being paranoid_, she told herself firmly, _Unis cleared the scene before you started._

She turned her attention to some trace under the body.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY **

Adam and Kendall looked up in shock as Danny barreled into AV, skidding to a halt.

"Turf War file," said Danny, agitated, "Where the hell is it Ross!"

"Uh, here," said Adam, confused, handing Danny the file. He and Kendall looked at each other.

_What's eating his ass?_ the two of them silently communicated to each other, exchanging glances.

Danny literally pulled the file apart, looking for the crime scene photos, his hands shaking as he spread them across an empty work bench.

Then he compared them to the framed photo he had in his hand.

Danny went white.

"_Shit!"_ he shouted, bundling everything together and rushing out of the room.

Adam and Kendall looked at each other again. Adam felt a sense of unease rising in his stomach.

Danny felt sick. He hated it when his hunches proved right.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY **

Rebecca was so focused on what she was doing she failed not notice she was being watched. She kept trying to shrug off her unease.

He'd watched her for a while, occasionally looking around, as thought she could sense him. _Smart girl,_ he thought, but there was no way in hell she could see him.

That uniformed cop had been so stupid he'd managed to walk right past his hiding place.

He'd been waiting a long time for this.

Everything had just been trial runs up till now.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY **

Mac looked up as Danny barged into his office without knocking. He was on the phone and frowned at the younger man's unannounced interruption.

"Chief, I'll have to call you back," said Mac, "Something just came up."

He replaced the handset.

"Danny, this had better be good," he said.

Danny cleared a space on Mac's desk and began to lay out the pictures from the serial case.

"I think I may have got a lead on this, Mac," said Danny, "And I've got a real bad feeling about this."

Mac looked sharply at Danny. Danny's instincts were usually spot on. He watched as Danny laid the framed picture of Rebecca next to the crime scene pics.

"I mean I shoulda spotted this before," he said, running his hand through his spiky hair, pushing his glasses further back up on his nose.

"Walk me through it Danny," said Mac, placing the pictures in some sort of order.

"Does it not seem weird that this perp just suddenly showed up in New York? Right after Rebecca moves here?"

Mac looked at the pictures more closely, feeling dread build within him.

"And look at that picture Mac, of Rebecca," continued Danny, "Does it not seem just a _little_ too like the crime scene poses?"

The two men stared at each other for a brief moment.

"Mac," said Danny, "Where the fuck is Rebecca?"

Mac picked up his phone.

"Dispatch," he barked, "I need a location on CSI Rhodes and back-up to her location immediately!"

Both men hoped they weren't too late.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY **

He moved so quickly that Rebecca didn't notice the movement until it was too late.

She saw the shadow, right before he grabbed her from behind, his hands around her throat in a choke hold.

And everything went black.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY **

**Dah Dah Daaaaaaaahhhhhh! Told you it was dark. And very, very long.**

**Hope that gets all your juices going!!!! Enjoy the epi tonight people!**

**And please let me know what you think, do you like the direction this is taking? Enquiring minds wanna know! x**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15 - Rescue Me**

**Usual Disclaimer: I own nothing except the Rhodes clan (and maybe Grandma Flack, although not the **_**name**_** Flack, you get me??)**

**Welcome to the new friends…welcome again to the old ones! Glad you're all along for the ride (especially the ones who keep egging me on….lmao…you know who you are!)**

**Apparently the handcuffs went down well. Good ho. Well done to the writers of s5.20…now look at what you've done to us putting THAT image into our heads grrr!**

**Darkness falls, kids, from here on in; came to me in a flash of genius. Sticking with it.**

**Enjoy.**

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY **

Flack pounded into the building that held both the precinct and the Crime Lab. IN the foyer, people wisely got out of his way as he ran, full pelt, to the elevators, hitting the call button and swearing loudly when the elevator doors failed to open immediately. Cursing in frustration, as soon as they opened he barreled inside, hitting the button marked 35, followed by the "doors close" button. A couple of staffers, who had been waiting a good few minutes as well, began to protest, quickly cut off by Flack rudely telling them to "catch the next ride".

It seemed to take forever to get to the 35th floor, Flack's hand tapping the wall by the control panel out of sheer frustration. As soon as the doors opened at his destination, he almost _ran_ down the corridor towards the break room, stopping dead at the sight that confronted him.

Rebecca, sitting in a chair, shoulders covered with a blanket, glassy stare on her eyes, head tilted upwards as a concerned Hawkes examined the bruising around her neck. Danny was crouched in front of her, holding her hands, murmuring something to her in a comforting tone. The other lab employees were milling around in the break room and corridor, clearly concerned about one of their own.

Flack felt, rather than saw Mac Taylor come and stand next to him. Flack ran his hand through his short hair.

"I had my cell turned off, Mac," said Flack, "I was with my YMCA kids down at the park. I only got Danny's message, like, ten minutes ago. Is she OK?"

Mac laid his hand on Flack's shoulder.

"She'll be OK Don," said the senior detective, "She's just in shock. She refused to go to Bellevue to be checked out. She insisted on coming back here. I asked Hawkes to look over her, make sure she's not injured."

Flack turned to Mac. He fixed the CSI with a look that Mac knew meant business.

"What the hell happened, Mac?" asked Flack, "What the fuck is going on here?"

Mac gestured to his office.

"I think it will be better if I explained in my office," he said.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY **

Flack and Mac looked over the photos that Danny had laid out on Mac's desk. When he came to the framed print of Rebecca, he took a sharp intake of breath and swore.

Mac swiftly explained what had happened to the younger man; how Danny had happened to see the picture of Rebecca, put two and two together and come straight to him.

"I called Dispatch straight away," said Mac, "And sent back-up straight to Hell's Kitchen. Danny and I got there only a few minutes afterwards."

"But, how the hell did this happen?" said Flack angrily.

"Apparently the uniform that checked the alley was inexperienced," said Mac, looking at Flack, "It happens to the best of us, you just miss a tiny detail,"

"He could have taken her!" said Flack, his voice rising with emotion, giving away his feelings for Rebecca as he spoke, "She could have been…"

He didn't finish the sentence. Both men knew what might have been.

"Hawkes just happened to decide to walk back to the alley," said Mac, "And he saw Rebecca being attacked. Her attacker was about to pick her up when Hawkes raised the alarm. Her attacker dropped her and ran."

Flack heaved a sigh of relief, making a mental note that he owed Sheldon Hawkes a drink, _hell_, drinks for the rest of his natural life. He stood a little straighter.

"What worried me," continued Mac, "Is that I think Danny may be right."

Flack looked at Mac in some confusion.

"I think her attacker followed her here from Washington," Mac explained, "I think Rebecca has been the target all along. I think _everything_ he's done up till now has been a dress rehearsal."

Flack felt himself grow cold. Mac cleared his throat to get the younger man's attention.

"Don," he said more seriously, "We may have a serious problem. The crime scene today? In Hell's Kitchen? I believe it may have been a set-up. I think he tried to lure Rebecca there."

Flack staggered back into the nearest seat. This was not what he'd wanted to hear.

"Look, Don," said Mac, "I'm going to call Washington and update Agent Booth on what's happened here. You," he said, gesturing in the direction of the break room, "Should take Rebecca home."

Flack stood.

"Thanks Mac," he said, before leaving the office. His heart felt heavy as he walked back to the break room. Danny looked up as he approached. He rubbed Rebecca's forearms.

"Hey kid," he said softly to Rebecca, "Here's your knight in tarnished armor, here to rescue you."

Danny was rewarded with the tiniest of smiles beginning to form on Rebecca's face. Flack walked up to him and put his hand on Danny's shoulder.

"Thanks Messer," he said. Danny looked up at Flack.

"Don't mention it man," he replied, coming to his feet. Flack looked him squarely in the eye.

"Danny," he said firmly, "I know what you did, both of you," he said, glancing at Hawkes, who was putting some medical gear back in his bag, "And thanks will never be even close to enough."

He bent his knees and put one arm around Rebecca's back and one under her knees, lifting her swiftly and easily into his arms, close to his chest. Rebecca hid her face in his chest and tightened her arms around his neck.

"Let's go home baby," he said.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY **

Flack supposed he shouldn't have been surprised that Rebecca wanted some alone time once they got back to their apartment building. She'd been almost distant in the car, silent for the whole ride home. He didn't want to push her.

After the bombing, he'd been much the same. It had taken Angell to break down most of his walls, after nearly two years.

He was pretty sure she wanted to kick some crap out of her punchbag. At least he hoped she did, because silent and withdrawn Rebecca was not a pleasant sight. Rebecca was feisty, charming and sparky, when she wasn't being downright seductive and sexy. No, Flack thought, this was not a good thing.

He left a couple of messages on her home phone and her cell. She wasn't picking up.

He watched the highlights of a Knicks game on TV, thought about walking down the hall to shake some sense into her then decided she probably just needed a little space. He went to bed.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY **

He awoke, groggy from sleep, sometime in the early hours. Two a.m.

At first Flack didn't know what had disturbed him, although he hadn't slept well with worrying about Rebecca.

Then he realized that there was a steady pounding from fists on his front door. Almost panicked sounding.

He grabbed his sweat pants from where he'd thrown them on the floor, when he'd got into bed in nothing but his boxers.

The hammering continued.

"Jeez, I'm coming," muttered Flack, working his way through the small apartment, cursing as he tripped over his bag of hockey gear and a couple of hockey sticks.

Rubbing the sleep from his face, he opened the door, to be confronted by a panicked Rebecca. Instantly the look of irritation was wiped from his face to be replaced by one of concern.

"Baby, what's the matter?" he asked, concerned. Rebecca stood there, in an over-sized Rangers t-shirt and not much else, shivering.

"I can't sleep," Rebecca managed to get out from between chattering teeth. She had a panicked look in her eyes. She darted into Flack's arms.

"I'm scared Donnie," she said in a small voice, "Please, I don't want to be alone. Can I stay with you?"

Flack closed his arms around her in a warm and comforting embrace, kissing her on the top of her head. He pulled her into his apartment and closed the door.

"Lock it!" she almost screamed, "Please!"

Flack frowned at her reaction, but he let go of her and fixed the door and security chain. He shot home the deadbolts for good measure. He took her back into his arms, rubbing her back soothingly.

"It's OK, baby," he murmured, "It's all safe." He looked down into her eyes, noticing the scared look start to subside. He took her hand and led her to his bedroom. He helped her to sit on the edge of his bed. He stripped off his sweatpants. As he pulled the comforter and sheets back, he noticed Rebecca had started shivering again. Pulling her towards the center of the bed, he pulled her into his front then pulled the blankets over them. All he did was hold her close.

It took her a long time to get warm. And longer before she relaxed into sleep. Flack stayed awake a little longer. Holding her close, keeping her safe. He wanted to do that forever.

He was going to get the sonofabitch who did this to her, if it killed him.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY **

A sleepy and relaxed Rebecca woke up in Flack's arms the next morning, like they had the previous day. She smiled at him, nestled in his arms. He smiled back down at her. _Yup,_ he thought, _he'd like to do this on a permanent basis._

"Good morning," he said, gently kissing her, "I'm gonna get some breakfast for us. You coming with me?"

She smiled and nodded. He helped her sit up.

"Come on," he said, "We need to get you some shoes and pants, not," he said glancing at her behind, "That the woman I love dressed in nothing but a t-shirt isn't sexy as hell."

Rebecca blushed, then kissed him lightly. Flack smirked, pulled on his sweats, a shirt and his trainers, then took her hand and pulled her to her feet.

"Let's go beautiful," he said.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY **

Flack spotted the open door to her apartment first.

"Bec," he asked, "Did you lock your door last night?"

Yes," said Rebecca, looking at him, puzzled, waving the bunch of keys in front of his eyes, "Why?"

Flack gestured to her open door and then both noticed the splintered wood on the doorframe. Rebecca's eyes widened.

Flack grabbed his cell from out of his pocket and dialed a familiar number.

"Mac?" he asked, "You might want to get over to Rebecca's apartment. Looks like the sonofabitch found her."

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY **

**And…dramatic music people! Is that OK? Another cliffie I know, but it's just SO much fun!**

**Drop me a line, tell me what you think. Am I gonna get to the 100 mark…?**


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16 – Save You**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the Rhodes family and Grandma's rules. We all know who do!**

**I would like Tinks to know that I am still praying to the Holy parents and Blessed Child for her safe recovery. And all the saints. (Like I wasn't going to put this in LOL!) And I owe you for the title, so hugs, kisses, first-born child…all yours! Thanks for letting Rebecca go shopping hehehe.**

**I would also like to say something on a slightly more serious note. There seems to be a great deal of plot and story stealing going on on this site at the moment. I know some people are quite upset about this. This site is supposed to be a place for us to unleash our imaginations. It doesn't matter if we write short pieces, work with each other to develop stories or bat ideas off each other. It doesn't matter if people aren't even that well rated. What's important is that FanFicton exists – for some of us it's an incredibly important outlet from the daily grind. **

**What is most upsetting is that the people who are taking things do so and sometimes don't even do anything remotely good with it. I have no issues if people want to use my OC or even some of my ideas – all I ask is that where it came from is acknowledged and people ask me first. I know a lot of people feel the same way. **

**Additionally, we all need to respect each other here. There's a lot of hate from people who don't like others' OCs. Why? We all have the right to self-expression and our own imaginations.**

**As always, the story has been M rated for a reason and I never know where these two are going so…**

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

Rebecca stood in the hall, looking into her apartment. All she could see was utter destruction. Crockery smashed, paintings ripped, photo frames smashed on the floor. Her couch had been slashed and everything turned out. The walls were filthy, the curtains ripped from the curtain track. Flack was on his cell again. It had rung shortly after he'd hung up on Mac.

"No, I can't take this one," he was saying angrily. Rebecca turned to him, their eyes meeting.

"Aside from the fact that it's two doors down from my apartment, Sergeant, I, uh, have a personal connection to this one."

Rebecca watched Flack's jaw set in that stubborn tone as he listened to whoever was on the other end of the line dig themselves into an even bigger hole.

"Sergeant," he bit off, "I _can't_ take this case because the victim is my girlfriend. That good enough a reason for you?"

His eyes met Rebecca's again, apologetically. This was not how either of them had wanted their colleagues to find out. And, knowing the gossip mill at NYPD, everyone would know, from the Chief to the beat cop, within a few hours. Muttering a few acknowledgements, Flack finished his call and dumped his cell back in his pocket. He came back over to her and took her in his arms, his chin resting on top of her head.

"Come on," he said, "Let's go get some coffee. They'll be here soon."

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

After the CSI team, consisting of Hawkes and Mac, had arrived and processed her apartment, Rebecca has gone briefly in to take a look; to see if anything could be salvaged. Nothing could be. Flack had taken charge and called her insurance company. Once the team had finished processing, Rebecca had gone into her bedroom to discover her wardrobe trashed, her beloved Rangers gear shredded into tiny pieces. Whoever it was had taken a knife to her bed, the mattress now having springs and ticking coming out from several different places. At least, she thought, she'd had the presence of mind to take her keys, her cell and her bank cards to Flack's. There was nothing she could tell them – she hadn't been in her apartment. She hadn't seen anyone. It was another dead end to the whole incident. Then she walked outside, to where several uniforms were milling around. Jess Angell was the detective assigned to the case. Between the calls and the PD arriving, Flack had given her a pair of his track pants. The few looks she'd got from the uniforms had quickly been stopped by a glare from Flack.

Rebecca sat down on the stoop, her arms folded, the ground cold underneath her bare feet. Jess came over and sat beside her, tossing her a pair of flip flops.

"Thanks," said Rebecca, slipping them on, "I appreciate it."

"I'm only sorry our feet aren't the same size," replied Jess, "This was all I got."

"It's no biggie," said Rebecca, "I just need to do some shopping urgently. I have absolutely nothing."

"Yeah," replied Jess, "I am so sorry. I saw your apartment. Looks like the guy really saved his rage for your bedroom. Do you need somewhere to stay?"

Rebecca gave her a look she saved for the dumbest of questions: her "You're shitting me, Sherlock?" look. Jess laughed.

"Let me guess," she said, "Now that you've been outed to the entire department, Flack's doing his whole protective and bossy routine. He gonna let you out at all?"

"I doubt it," replied Rebecca, drily, "He seems to have this whole superhero thing going on now. He's already requested a few days off from the Chief. He told me he wants to look after me." She snorted, "Keep me under his beady eye more like."

"He just wants to protect you," said Jess, "I think he loves you. He just doesn't want to see anything happen to you."

Rebecca smiled. Then she tugged at her t-shirt.

"Well, now that I'm co-habiting, albeit under very odd circumstances, with one of New York's finest, I think I need to review my wardrobe," she said.

Jess put her arm around Rebecca's shoulder and smiled at her.

"Which, seeing as I got off shift ten minutes ago, is where I come in!" she replied.

Just then, Flack walked out of the building and down the steps. The women turned to look at him. He lifted his eyebrows in an exaggerated fashion at the sight of the two of them together.

"Do I want to know what the two of you are cooking up now?" he asked.

Jess just grinned at him.

"I'm taking your girlfriend shopping," she said, "Trust me, Flack, it'll be all good. First stop the NHL store!" finishing the sentence with a mock salute.

"Just no teeny shorts again," he said, "And please don't get matching outfits again," he added.

The two women dissolved into laughter at the memory of their _very_ drunken sleepover. Flack just muttered under his breath and headed off to the diner on the corner.

"Double latte, drip and whatever I'm having?" he shouted back at them.

"You got it!" they yelled, smiling at each other.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

The women had hit Fifth Avenue with a vengeance. Since Rebecca had spent a great deal of time in Europe, she was a big fan of H & M, so that had been their first stop, Rebecca managing to stock up inexpensively on all sorts of basics. Then they'd hit the Gap, Banana Republic and Macy's. They'd even gone to get their hair done. At least, thought Rebecca, she had the basics down, enabling her to have enough clothes for work, leisure and running to see her until the check came in from the Insurance. Jess had reminded her about make-up and they'd gotten her her toiletries. After a couple of solid hours, they had retreated to a Dean and DeLuca for lunch, a coffee and a breather. Jess, who had come off the night shift, looked exhausted, thought Rebecca guiltily. She put her hand over the other woman's.

"Jess," she said, "You should go home. You must be exhausted."

Jess stifled another yawn and shook her head.

"You gotta be kidding," she said, "We are not done yet! You don't have enough shoes yet!"

Rebecca laughed. Dressed in a Banana Republic t-shirt, some Adidas trainers and some Gap blue jeans, she felt a great deal more human. The leather jacket Jess had insisted on her buying looked good too. The make-over on the Benefit counter in Macy's had also served to cheer her up no end. Now she felt more human. The rest of her purchases were in a growing collection of shopping bags at their feet. She was especially pleased with her Mandarina Duck handbag – a red creation with numerous sections to it. Then she frowned. There was one thing missing. Jess noticed the frown.

"Are you ok Bec?" she asked, concerned. Rebecca shook her head. Tears were forming now.

"Talk to me," said Jess, shifting her chair round the small table so that she could put her arm around her friend's shoulder, while fishing in the bag from the drugstore for the box of paper tissues they'd bought, "They _will_ catch the asshole that did this, we will."

"I know," replied Rebecca, with a sniff, wiping her eyes, "It's just that all my gorgeous underwear is gone. That red dress is ruined."

Jess tried and failed to suppress a laugh.

"You have some crazy asshole stalking you, who in all probability is the same perp who trashed your entire life and you're worried about your _sexy panties,"_ she said.

Rebecca nodded. Jess tipped her head to one side.

"Well, I can't say as I blame you, seeing as you have one hot, sexy man on tap 24-7 now," she mused, then grinned wickedly, "And, girlfriend, I have just the solution to your problem!"

Jess stood and pulled a confused looking Rebecca to her feet.

"First stop, replacement frock," Jess said, "Second stop, Frederick's of Hollywood!"

And she grabbed half the bags from the floor and propelled Rebecca out of the small coffee shop.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

After that, they'd stopped once at the NHL store so Rebecca could replace most of her Rangers gear. She'd even picked up some Stanley Cup branded gear on sale for Flack, which she knew he would love, in addition to a frankly much nicer tie than he was used to wearing. Jess had insisted, saying it was going to be expected that any of Flack's girlfriends take on his terrible taste in ties, or, as Jess put it, "His downright disgusting fugly ties", trying to make Rebecca promise to burn them all now she had all areas access to them.

She had taken a cab back to their apartment building, dropping a fit-to-drop Jess on the way.

It took her a few minutes to struggle up to their floor with all the bags and she wandered past her own apartment, trying not to look at the yellow tape that criss-crossed the doorway. She let herself into Flack's apartment.

"Hello?" she called out, "Baby, you here?"

She heard a muffled thump and curse coming from behind the closed bedroom door. Dropping the bags by Flack's hockey gear, she made her way over to it and opened the door.

OK, make that _tried_ to open the door. Something was blocking it from the other side.

"Is everything OK in there?" she called.

"Yeah sweetheart," Flack shouted, "Everything's fine! We'll be out in just a sec."

_We? _What was going on in there? Rebecca headed to the kitchenette and made herself a mug of coffee. There was mostly silence, the sound of muffled dragging, some thumps and some more muffled swearing. Rebecca was about to go in and see how Flack was disposing of the body, when the door opened and Flack and Joe, the super, came out of the room, looking a bit hot and sweaty. Joe was carrying a ladder under his arm. He looked a bit put out. Rebecca raised her eyebrows.

"Do I need to leave?" she asked, "You boys need some more alone time?"

Flack fixed her with his "don't mess with the detective" look. Rebecca giggled.

"Joe, thanks," said Flack, "I really appreciate this."

Joe wiped off his forehead with a red handkerchief.

"Jeez, Donnie," he said, "The things we do for the ladies. I'll catch you later, detective. Dr Rhodes, I'll have you your new keys tomorrow."

Rebecca thanked Joe and he ushered himself and his ladder out of the door. Rebecca shut it behind him and turned to face Flack, crossing her arms.

"You going to tell me what the hell is going on?" she asked. Flack just walked towards her with a scarf in his hands. He grinned.

"You trust me baby?" he asked. Rebecca looked at him warily. "I have a surprise for you," he said, "And I think it'll be better this way."

Rebecca allowed him to blindfold her and lead her over to his bedroom. He guided her inside and then took off the blindfold.

The first thing she noticed was the slight rearrangement of furniture in the small room. Closely followed by the new, large, shiny, red leather punchbag that now hung in a corner of his bedroom. She felt Flack come up behind her, putting his hands around her waist. Rebecca slowly let out the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.

"You like it?" he asked, a note of worry in his voice. He worried he was rushing things.

Rebecca turned slowly around in his embrace and put her hands around his neck. She stood on tip-toes and kissed him softly on his lips.

"I _love_ it," she said, "Thank you!"

He eagerly kissed her back, holding her close.

"I cleared out some space in the closet for you, for all that shopping you did," he said, "Did Fifth Avenue survive?"

Rebecca smiled. "Mostly," she said, "But we did a bit of a raid on the NHL store."

Flack chuckled. His eyes turned tender as he looked down at the woman he loved.

"I just wanted to do something to make this place seem like home for you," he said, "And I thought it would make you feel, I don't know, stronger if you start working out with it again. You don't like feeling defenseless, I know."

Rebecca pulled him into a hug so he didn't see the tears welling up. She hadn't realized he understood her that well. That she hated feeling scared. Defenseless.

"Just one thing," he said. Rebecca looked at him. "Don't kick the crap out of it when I'm home."

"Why not?" she asked.

"Because I'll only have to come check if you're OK and the sight of you all hot and sweaty just does something to me," he confessed, pressing his forehead to hers. Rebecca smiled.

"And what kind of thing does it do to you, detective?" she asked, knowing full and fine well what he meant. He looked into her eyes, a dangerous glint in his own.

"Let's just say," he said carefully, his eyes never leaving hers, "That I'll only end up getting you even more hot and sweaty," he said.

Rebecca smiled a small, seductive smile.

"Promises, promises," she said, making a mental note to test that theory out _as soon as humanely possible_.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

Rebecca dispatched Flack back to the lounge, telling him she had to unpack her things and proceeded to empty the contents of the bags onto his bed and put things away. Not before she checked out his side of the closet and edited his tie collection. _Jesus,_ she thought, _Jess was right_. She hid the worst in one of her bags, making a note to smuggle them to the Salvation Army when she got a chance. Not that she thought there was a hope in hell they'd accept them. She neatly folded her things and put them away. Not much, she thought wistfully, but her now-compact wardrobe would be added to once the insurance came through, not that she needed it. She had enough. _And Frederick's of Hollywood_ had seen to the rest.

Turning her attention to the bathroom, she arranged her toiletries in the cabinet and in the shower, making a note she'd need to get some sort of trolley to put the rest of her things in. Then she opened the medicine cabinet and put in the large box of prophylactics she'd bought at the drugstore.

"Jesus Christ!" said a voice from behind her, causing her to jump. She turned round and glared at her boyfriend, who had come to see what was taking so long. She put her hands on her hips.

"Don't do that!" she said, "And what? You never seen the contents of a girl's bathroom before?"

He gestured helplessly at his idea of hell.

"Seriously, babe," he said, "I just don't get how you women need all this stuff."

He picked up the purple nylon body scrubber that now hung from one of the taps.

"I mean, what the hell is this?"

Rebecca smirked.

"You know how you love my soft skin?" she asked, watching Flack swallow at the memory and nod, "Takes work baby." She removed the item from his hands and returned it to the tap. Then she turned to him and grinned.

"Can you go back outside to the lounge?" she asked, "For about five minutes? I have a surprise for you."

Now Flack was the one looking wary. But he acquiesced and left the room. Rebecca grabbed the Frederick's bag he'd not spotted at her feet and pulled out the contents, smiling at the thought of the look that he was going to give her. Smirking, she stripped and changed into the pretty black bra and naughty panties that Jess had talked her into. Poking her head around the doo, she called to Flack that he could come back in. Which he did, quickly.

"You know what really upset me the most?" she called from behind the slightly ajar door.

"No babe, what?" he replied.

"That you never got to see the rest of my lingerie collection," said Rebecca. Flack's jaw dropped and he sat down heavily on the edge of his bed. He closed his mouth. He was already getting hard.

"I mean," continued Rebecca, "I had some really nice stuff, so I had to start replacing it and I don't know if it's any good."

Flack made some sort of affirmative noise.

"Jess talked me into these crotchless things, but I don't know what I think."

_Christ_, thought Flack, his jeans now incredibly uncomfortable, _what on earth…?_ He clenched his hands at his side. How could this one woman, just talking about what she probably was wearing turn him on so much? He was starting to get all sorts of dirty, seductive images in his downright perverted mind. Then the door opened and she stood in the doorway, posing there for him.

There she was, in a lace and satin push-up bra and some ruffled panties. She bit her lip and looked at him.

"Do you like it?" she asked.

Instead of replying, Flack propelled himself off the bed and moved towards her. In answer, he simply picked her up, easily holding her slight weight in his arms and then slammed her back against the wall. Her knees bent and she wound them around his waist. He heard her laugh a deep, throaty laugh before she kissed him.

He reached down and undid his own fly, hurriedly pushing his jeans down just enough. Rebecca clung on to him with one arm and her legs, slipping one hand into his to give him one of the little packages she'd come home with. She smiled at him and he grinned lustfully back, as he ripped open the little package, smoothing the latex into place, shuddering slightly at the sensation.

He couldn't believe that he was so hard from no foreplay.

He held her firmly, one hand on her hip as his other touched her between the legs, to judge how ready for him she was. As he touched her soft folds, he found her already wet. He watched her bite her lip and bang her own head back against the wall, closing her eyes. His eyes never left her face as he inserted one, then two fingers, gently moving them in and out of her and was rewarded with a moan. He bent his head to hers and kissed her deeply, passionately, moving his fingers back out and gently rubbing her clit. Rebecca was panting.

"I definitely like these panties," he said, grinning, before kissing her again. Then he removed his hand and put it on her other hip, holding her in place. Then he moved himself up and thrust inside her with one fluid, swift movement. As he felt her moist warmth he realized he wasn't going to last long and set a fast, urgent pace, moving his hand back between her legs and rubbing the spot he knew would bring her.

She moved her hips as urgently as he did, urging him on. Flack sucked her neck and pulled her hips towards his, thrusting deeper as he did. She gasped, tightening her legs around his waist. As he felt the first flutters of her muscles gripping him, he changed his pace, losing control. He was dimly aware of her crying out, pulling him closer to her as he finally tipped over the edge. He gave a final thrust, feeling himself spill out hotly. He paused for a moment, his head resting on her shoulder, before he slipped out of her and carried her back towards the bed. He laid her gently on the bed, before stripping himself of his clothes. He climbed onto the bed and pulled her into a close embrace, gently stroking her, looking deep into her eyes. He smiled. She smiled in return, lifting her hand to smooth his hair and wipe the sweat from his forehead.

"I wanted to say thank you," she said, "For the punch-bag."

Flack grinned and gently kissed her.

"You did," he replied, "And I got to give you that fantasy, against the wall."

Rebecca smiled a small smile.

"But, baby," she said, pouting slightly, "Now I'm going to have to come up with a new one."

Flack lifted his eyebrows suggestively as he moved over her, his body already stirring, placing her underneath him.

"Then we'd better get to work on that," he said.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

**This honestly wasn't going to be a smutty chapter but the abysmal Game 6 NYR-Caps game has required me to come up with suitable distraction for me and Tinks.**

**Please review, but I check my stats all the time so I know some lurkers check this out – I love each and every one of you for all your support xxx.**


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17: You and me baby, ain't…..**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of CSI:NY except my OCs in this story. All kudos to them…**

**Life has been getting away with me these last couple of weeks and I've had to focus on slightly more important things in life, like my friends and stuff, so sorry if you've been waiting to see what happens next. Remember, life has a funny way of creeping up behind you and biting you in the …**

**Before you get into this chapter, I should apologize for the impending smut – I honestly don't mean to write smut in every chapter, but I woke up this morning and the muse wanted smut, so…**

**And another appearance from **_**Mommy Dearest**_** and the family from hell as well.**

**Enjoy!**

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

_**Meanwhile, back at the Crime Lab**_

Mac picked up the phone and sighed heavily before placing a call to Washington D.C.'s FBI offices. As the connection went through, he asked to be connected to Special Agent Seeley Booth…

"Agent Booth," said Mac, by way of greeting, "I believe we have a break on the case down here in NYC."

Looking up, Mac saw Stella standing outside his office. He motioned to her to come in. Stella entered the office and took a seat on the leather sofa by the glass walls.

"That's correct," said Mac, "The connection was made when one of my CSIs noticed som similarities between the crime scene poses of the vics and a picture of Rebecca that he saw on her desk here at the lab."

Mac paused to let the other man speak for a moment.

"I would agree with you, Agent Booth," he replied, "That normally that kind of thing is coincidence, however, when you add in the facts that the killer moved his scene of operations here to NYC just after Rebecca moved here, not to mention the fact she was attacked yesterday aft…"

Booth cut him off. Mac put him on speaker phone.

"Attacked, Detective Taylor? What do you mean attacked?" said Agent Booth.

"Just that," said Stella, "We were informed by dispatch of another DB in Hell's Kitchen, Rebecca was one of the CSIs on duty, she took the call. She was attacked in the alley. We are fairly certain the DB was a staged dump to lure her in."

"Where is she now?" asked Booth, a little harshly, "She's a friend of ours and…"

"She's safe," cut in Mac, "She's staying with one of our homicide detectives. They're neighbors."

"Flack?" asked Booth, "He's a good man."

"He is," affirmed Mac, "Which is a good thing, seeing as her apartment was turned over…"

"Make that trashed," added Stella, getting a glare from Mac; _too much information, Stel,_ it said.

Both the New York detectives could hear Booth sigh heavily.

"I'm going to have to contact her family," said Booth, "I mean, we need to speak to them to establish if this is about Rebecca or the Rhodes family in general. Her parents might have an idea of who could be behind that."

"I don't think Rebecca is going to like that," said Stella.

"Have you met her family?" asked Booth.

"I have unfortunately had that pleasure," said Mac grimly. Booth chuckled.

"Now that is the voice of the man who met Mommy Dearest," he said, "Look, I'll do my thing this end and I'll call you if I have any information that might help. I'll get Bones and I booked on another flight down there…"

"That would be appreciated," said Mac, "And thank you Agent Booth, we look forward to working with you again."

Mac hung up and turned to Stella.

"So Stel," he asked, "Are we any further forward with an ID on the man who's after Rebecca?"

The slightly defeated look in his partner's eyes confirmed that they weren't.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

The conversation with Stanley Rhodes did not go too well, thought Booth. Especially not once Bones had added her usual two cents observations.

Stanley had been unable to offer any suggestions or observations as to why anyone would want to hurt his daughter. Bones had commented that he didn't appear to notice much about her at all. Stanley Rhodes had all but thrown them out of his office at that. He had, however, promised to call his wife and interrupt her busy planning of her son's engagement party to ask if she had any ideas. After all, Vanessa Rhodes was the one who ran the house and her children, so if anyone would know, it would be her.

Stanley hadn't relished that call himself. No-one liked interrupting Vanessa when she was in full society hostess mode, least of all not him. It had taken a lot of persuasion to get their housekeeper to interrupt her meeting with the caterers to put her on. Now he had his very frosty wife, who he could just picture in her twin-set and pearls, on the other end of the phone.

"Why are you interrupting me Stanley?" she asked, "What could be so important that it can't wait ill dinner? I have the caterers here. We are discussing menus, for God's sake!"

"I had a visit from one of Rebecca's colleagues today," said Stanley, "It appears that Rebecca may be in some trouble in New York."

"That hardly surprises me," said Vanessa sharply, "I did tell her not to move there, but no, she wasn't having any of it."

"Vanessa," said Stanley warningly, "This is quite serious. It appears that it's to do with those mysterious deaths that were here in DC a few months past, before Rebecca moved to New York."

"What could those deaths possibly have to do with Rebecca?" asked his wife, "Aside from the fact she probably catalogued their bodies with Dr Brennan."

Stanley took a deep breath. "Vanessa," he said, "It looks like the killer followed Rebecca from DC to New York City. He attacked her yesterday and turned over her apartment last night."

His wife was finally silent for a few minutes.

"Vanessa?" he asked, "Are you still there?"

"Of course I am!" she said witheringly, "And who did you hear this from? Rebecca?"

"No, from Agent Booth," said Stanley, "He was advised of the events by Rebecca's boss, Detective Taylor."

"So what you're telling me is that Rebecca hasn't even had the good manners to call her parents and tell them she's being stalked by a serial killer?" said Vanessa coldly, "Which is just typical of our daughter, Stanley."

Privately, Stanley Rhodes thought that the real reason Rebecca wouldn't bother telling her parents was that her mother's reaction would be just as it had been. Selfish and self-centered and nothing to do with Rebecca's safety or feelings at all. He wished, as he did on so many occasions, that he hadn't been so absorbed in his career when she'd been a little girl. So he took the coward's way out.

"I expect you'll speak to her Vanessa," he said.

"Indeed I will," said Vanessa Rhodes, "Indeed I will."

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

Rebecca was lying in Flack's arms, lazily drawing circles on his strong forearms, which held her close to him. She was, smiling as she even thought the silly sentence, _basking in the afterglow._ Points for trying, she thought, he was doing his damndest to make her forget the events of the last couple of days. They were both naked now, her underwear long since cast to the floor and posts of the bed. She snuggled in deeper, eliciting a chuckle from her handsome boyfriend, who tightened his arms.

"I'm glad," she said, "That we've got a few days off. Do we have to get out of bed."

"I hope not baby," said Flack, "But we do need to eat and answer the call of nature sometime. Remember who'll be investigating our deaths if we don't."

Rebecca gave a theatrical shudder and they both said one name in unison.

"Messer."

Flack laughed out loud. Just as Rebecca was turning herself around to face him, a cellphone started ringing. Flack's hand shot out to the nightstand to grab it, without thinking to check whose it was and he answered it with his typical "Flack," – short, sharp and to the point. Before his eyes met Rebecca's, who were looking at him, by now questioningly.

"Hi Mrs Rhodes," said Flack, in answer. Rebecca gave a groan and pulled the comforte over her head. Flack tugged it down just as quick.

"Honey," he said loudly, "It's your mom."

Rebecca glared at him in reply before taking the cell from him, almost immediately having to hold it at a distance from her ear as her mother decided to give her a piece of her mind.

Judging from the conversation, thought Flack, getting up from the bed and pulling on his jeans, Mommy Dearest had been appraised of the situation in New York and wasn't too happy about not hearing it from her daughter. He made his way into the bathroom to take care of business and dispose of a few little items, watching Rebecca pull herself into a sitting position and tuck the sheet around herself firmly.

"No mother," she was saying, "I really didn't want to bother you with this."

He watched her wince as her mother obviously started ranting again.

"Mother," said Rebecca pleadingly, "I know how busy you and Daddy are and everything is fine, honestly it is."

He watched as his girlfriend listened to what her mother had to say, before sitting bolt upright, a hard look on her face.

"No," she said firmly, "No mother, I am not coming home and I suggest you get that idea of sending Daddy and Harrison down here to collect me, as you put it, right out of your head. I am _not_ leaving, I am _not _coming back. I wish you would all get that through your thick skulls. I have a life, a job and I am staying with my boyfriend, so butt out!"

Rebecca's face hardened as she listened to whatever else her mother had to say before she bit out a goodbye and snapped the phone shut on her mother in mid-rant, before turning the phone off and throwing it in the general direction of the window. It landed, fortunately without breaking.

"I take it Mommy dearest isn't best pleased with her only daughter?" said Flack teasingly. Rebecca shot him a very dirty look, before she climbed out of bed herself and headed into the bathroom, grabbing his dress shirt off the floor. Flack heard the door lock slide shut in response and he headed into the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

*******SMUT ALERT – NO MORE PLOT DEVELOPMENT FROM HERE ON IN! JUST PURE SMUT! BLAME THE MUSE! STOP NOW IF YOU DON'T LIKE MY SMUT! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!!!!!*******

Flack finished his cup of coffee, looking admiringly at his girlfriend, sitting on a stool by the counter, sipping her coffee, which was in an oversized mug with a "Kiss the Detective" logo printed on it. Flack picked up his badge and handcuffs, which were sitting on the kitchen counter. Rebecca eyed them thoughtfully.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked.

Rebecca just smiled a small, secretive smile and took another sip of her coffee.

"You come up with a new fantasy yet, detective?" he asked.

"Maybe," she said, taking another long sip of her coffee and another sidelong glance at the handcuffs. Flack's grin widened.

"What is it about handcuffs with some women?" he mused out loud, "I mean, _handcuffs?_ Hardly the most sexy of items?"

"I didn't notice you complaining," Rebecca replied, in a falsely coy voice, before taking a long slurp of her coffee.

Flack's mind went back to the night Rebecca had used a set on him so she could have her wicked way with him and his grin got even wider. And a dirty, dirty image came into his head. He shifted the cuffs from one hand to the other and a hard, lustful look came into his eyes.

Rebecca set her cup carefully down on the counter and slipped off her bar stool.

"Handcuffs and badge-carrying cops, mmmmm," she said, "It just screams, well, the possibilities."

And with that, she sauntered off towards the bedroom, with only one small tiny backwards glance at Flack, before she blew him a kiss.

Rebecca didn't make it to the bedroom.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

He caught her as she just made it to the couch in the lounge. He grabbed her, pulling her into him and bent her forwards.

"So you want me to go all cop on you?" he said roughly, "OK, I'll go all cop on you."

Rebecca protested slightly and tried to push herself upright, not entirely sure if she wanted things to go down this way. Flack's response was only to push her forwards again and grab her hands, pulling them behind her back with one hand, grabbing his cuffs with the other. Swiftly, he cuffed her hands behind her back.

"I won't hurt you, baby," he said, whispering into her ear, "If you really don't want this, then just tell me to stop and I promise I will. Do you want me to?"

Rebecca stilled for a second. And shook her head. Flack just smiled. He had her right where he wanted her.

The shirt had ridden up, revealing the lack of clothing underneath and he took a sharp intake of breath when he saw her bare beneath it. He swept his hand over the flesh, gently kneading it. He was rewarded with a little moan and Rebecca's hips gently moving back towards his. He swatted her ass lightly, just to remind her who was in charge and she stilled. He nudged one foot between hers, then added his other leg, spreading her legs wide.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

Rebecca couldn't quite believe this was happening. OK, so she could. But this was so much like one of her really dirty long-time fantasies – the really hot, strong guy, who was just going to have his wicked way with her. She just didn't want him to go all conscientious on her; she wanted him to see this through.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

Flack ran one hand from the front through to the back of her, smirking when he felt that she was already wet. _So she's getting off on this_, he thought, _good._ His hands went to the button of his jeans and his zipper as he stood straight, surveying the scene in front of him.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

She heard the snap of the button as he undid it, followed by the sound of metal, as the zip slid down the teeth of the zipper. She couldn't escape the sound that left her mouth, the gasp, as she knew what was coming.

Well, not entirely, as she felt his hand centre on her clit and his roughly stroking her into a frenzy, quickly, without any of his usual care and slow strokes, the ones he used to slowly build her into a quivering, begging mess. Then suddenly he stopped, grabbing her hips with both hands and he pushed into her without any warning. She cried out.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

God she was tight, without that much foreplay, but Jesus, she was so wet already. Flack had to stop moving right then and there, to catch his breath and get his control back. He'd thought it was going to be all over right then. Muttering a couple of verses of the national anthem, her grabbed her hips again and started to move, thrusting purposefully.

His fingers dug into her flesh harshly. He knew she was going to have bruises tomorrow, but he just didn't care. Judging from her response, as she tried to thrust her hips back towards him, she didn't care either.

He pounded into her roughly, each stroke taking him nearer completion. Dimly he realized that he wanted her to come as well and, almost at the point of no return, he pulled out of her, loosely hearing her moan of protest and he threw her over his shoulder, carrying her into their bedroom.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

As he flung her onto the bed, pulling her so her legs were dangling over the edge, Rebecca wasn't entirely sure what he had in mind, her hands still cuffed behind her back, her shoulders starting to ache slightly from the strain of her arms held back forcibly. But as he pulled her hips forwards, so her bottom was flush with the edge of the mattress and he knelt and bent his head, she knew exactly what he was about. And the part of her head that wasn't so totally, lustfully, lost in the moment, entirely loved that man for making sure she was just as satisfied as he was.

Until his mouth landed on her clit and with no preamble whatsoever, simply applied the strong sucking he usually reserved for later in proceedings. This Flack wasn't messing around. He wanted her to come, that much was true, but this was all about him. Her hips bucked right off the bed and into his mouth. She screamed. She understood then, this wasn't about her, it was about him. The orgasm was almost painful in its intensity.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

When he felt her come, Flack simply turned her over so she was flat on her stomach, pulling her hips up towards him and thrust back into her, setting a fast pace, that had her gasping and moaning. She was so wet and tight, he thought and he could feel her muscles still contracting all around him. She was bucking her hips into his every thrust and he thought he was going to explode just from the feel of it. He could feel himself get even harder and he groaned himself, thrusting just a little deeper into her.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

_Jesus_, thought Rebecca, _this is so good_. It was just and only just on the right side of pain for her and she really, really wanted to feel him let so this time. Part of her, while she loved the detective that cared for her in the bedroom, that totally wanted to please her, there was a part of her that just wanted _this_, to feel almost used. She could feel him getting even harder, as if that were possible, feel him getting slightly bigger and she heard him groan, knowing he felt it too. His hands tightened on her hips as he drove into her, getting almost impossibly faster and she felt the rhythm change, as he lost control entirely.

She heard the litany of profanities drop from his lips and she dropped her forehead to the bed, raising her hips in response.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

He couldn't contain it any longer; he thrust one last time and came, exploding into her, one tiny thought at the back of his head reminding him he'd forgotten to use anything. And part of him didn't care. He collapsed, onto her back, breathing heavily, whispering his thanks to her for trusting him that much.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

She felt the heat spill into her as he thrust that last time and she'd risen to meet it, welcoming all of him as he lost control. Nothing, she thought, could explain how she felt at that moment, how she relished the feeling of his giving all of that over to her. How incredible it felt. And she heard him saying thank you. She smiled.

He pulled himself upright after a couple of minutes, quickly un-cuffing her hands, rubbing her shoulders to ease the pain he knew she must be feeling. He winced at the red marks on her pale skin, round her wrists and on her hips, the teeth marks in her shoulders that he didn't even remember making. He was contrite and horrified at his loss of control.

Rebecca, wincing at the pain the movement caused, put her hands on his shoulders and shook him slightly.

"Stop it," she said, "Stop it Don, I didn't tell you to stop, did I?"

He looked into her eyes, seeing the still-blazing passion in them and his unease lessened slightly. She took his face in her hands and pressed a small kiss to his lips.

"I wanted that, I really did, couldn't you feel it?" she said. He nodded, still feeling guilty.

"You gave me all of you," she continued, "All of you. It was amazing and I'm not so sure I _don't_ want that again, some other time."

She smiled at him, as she came to sit in his lap, the shirt mussed, but still on, his jeans around his ankles, him still in his t-shirt.

"Every time, Donnie," she said, "Every time we do this, however we do this, you just blow me away, because it's always with love. Always."

She kissed him deeply and he pulled her into a hug and thanked God again that she'd decided to move in down the hall. And he promised himself in that moment that whatever happened, he was never going to let her get away.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

Vanessa Rhodes was looking through the records of employment she had kept for the past twenty or so years for their house. They had had the same staff for a number of years. Their housekeeper and her sister kept the place in full running order, their family members helping out at dinner parties and functions. The housekeeper's husband tended to the cars and occasionally acted as driver. Vanessa might have been a royal bitch to many, but she knew the value of good staff and treated them well.

Turning to the page of the details of those she had let go, she spotted a name. Of a man she had had to let go after her mother-in-law's birthday party, some years ago, before her death. Rebecca had been posing for photographs, dressed in a regency style white dress, with ribbon around her neck and their new gardener, a man she had got a very bad feeling about had been hanging around. When she had caught the man, a few days later, on a ladder on the wrong side of the house she had had her worst suspicions confirmed. He had seemed _unnaturally_ interested in Rebecca, she recalled. Rebecca hadn't noticed and to be honest, neither had she, until Harrison had mentioned it to her and so had the housekeeper.

Stanley had made a call to one of his friends, an FBI agent, the same man, in fact, who had gotten Rebecca the interview at Quantico, although he was an Assistant Director now, a call which had turned up some quite unsavory pieces of information about his past. They had let him go, but had no idea what had happened to him.

And now, it appeared, James Rushton was back.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

**OK, so this was partly for the smut fans and also partly for Hopes4all, who wanted to know who this guy is. I would like to mention, at this point, that when I created Rebecca, I didn't think she would be this much a part of the action – seriously. I had no idea that **_**she**_** would end up being the center of the story in this way. It was just a moment that came to me a few weeks ago. I thought she and Flack would hook up and investigate several cases and then it would eventually go to …oh now that **_**would**_** be telling.**

**So feedback would be good, even if only to tell me you don't like the smut! Help me get to the magic 100 reviews LOL!**

**And Tinks, Spanky, Poppy, this was **_**all**_** for you guys! Xxx**


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18 – If Tomorrow Never Comes**

**Sorry for the huge delay in updating this – I have been extremely busy finishing Steam Rising (Smut land filth), writing a one-shot (Mitzvah – which got nominated for best one-shot to my total shock and amazement) and, of course, my new story, The Wrong Side. Plus, the NYC muse went off somewhere on vacation which hasn't helped…. So here is chapter 18. I hope you enjoy it. Not much more of this story to go, I promise! Thanks for staying tuned!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with the songs, CSI: NY and any similarity between my OCs and any of their characters is strictly co-incidental. Equally, I hope no-one minds my storylines!**

**This one's for Poppy, Tinks (who put me on the right track for the chapter title) and SpankyMcDoogleFace, amongst others. You know the reasons why ladies…**

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

A somewhat rattled Agent Seeley Booth waited, irritated, for his partner, Dr Temperance "Bones" Brennan and the FBI psychologist, Dr Lance Sweets, to collect their suitcases from the baggage collect. He wasn't impressed with the delay; why the hell they couldn't have just brought carry on…? He thought, but then again, Although Bones was Bones, she was still a woman. Although that didn't really explain Sweets' need for a suitcase full of belongings (which probably contained his extensive notebooks on the duo's relationship). Or then again, maybe it did?

Agent Booth grabbed the nearest luggage trolley once the two had finally located their bags and quickly steered them to the collection point. Standing there, arms crossed, leaning against a pillar in Arrivals, with his usual trademark grin on his face, stood Danny Messer, designated driver. Actually, he'd been pretty pleased to get this assignment, seeing as the cases that had come in for the Lab had been pretty nasty; a decomp in Washington Heights, a junkie in Yonkers and a double suicide in Staten Island. Not pretty, although if he'd gotten the Staten Island case he could have gone to his mama's for lunch and Danny Messer loved his mama's home-style Italian cooking.

Booth looked the CSI up and down, wondering silently for the millionth time why Detective Mac Taylor didn't enforce a smarter apparel rule for the NY Crime Lab, as he tugged the tie around his neck a little looser. Dressed in his customary denim, with a tight t-shirt across his chest and the collar of his jacket turned up, Danny grinned and grabbed Bones' suitcase from the trolley.

"Miss me?" he asked a little cheekily, "Or are you just back for the hockey and skating?" he asked referring to the upcoming Rangers game and the Rockerfeller Ice rink, which was now open for the seasonal business.

Booth glared at him. Danny chuckled.

"Come on," he said, "Mac's waiting to see what you dug up on our guy," as he walked, leading the way to the department SUV that was parked in restricted parking, right outside the entrance to arrivals. As he loaded the bags into the trunk, Booth came over to him.

"Anything new on the case?" he asked, concerned for his friend, Rebecca, "Any new leads?"

Danny looked at the agent straight in the eye.

"Nothing," he said, "Nada, zilch. Seems the guy's gone quiet. And something tells me that ain't a good thing."

"Same here," said Booth, "Same here. "She getting along with her new roommate OK?"

Danny grinned.

"Let's just say a certain homicide detective is finding co-habitation and domestic bliss real essential to his well-being, in every way," replied Danny.

"I can imagine," said Booth, with an amused smile.

He slammed the door to the trunk closed and the men climbed into their seats and Danny, starting the engine, pulled the vehicle away, starting on the long drive back into the city.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

Rebecca had snuck out early to the diner, leaving Flack lying on his stomach, dead to the world, the blankets around his waist. She had been tempted to stay right there and try waking him up with a light stroking to his back, but he was firmly in need of his sleep. Rebecca grinned to her self. The poor man was really, really, _really_ tired, she thought. Not that she was complaining.

As she'd swung her legs over the edge of the bed, _their_ bed, she had suddenly felt a little queasy, but she'd put it down to their, uh, forgetting to eat the previous night. They'd been far too busy to think about food.

So she'd grabbed various articles of clothes off of the floor, including Flack's ball cap and headed out to buy breakfast to go at the diner, stopping to pick his, _their, _newspaper out of the mail as she headed out of the door. She glanced at the headlines as she wandered down the street, thinking only of French toast, bacon and maple syrup, fresh squeezed OJ, _or maybe not, _she thought, feeling a little queasy again, along with a couple of coffees.

She didn't notice the van parked across the street from their building. Nor the man watching from the driver's seat.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

Flack slowly came to, stretching his arm out to pull Rebecca close to him, finding nothing but the cold sheets and empty side of the bed. He raised his head off of the pillows, listening for the sounds of movement in the bathroom or in the rest of the apartment. Nothing. Concerned, he got out of bed, pulling on his sweats, a t-shirt and his flip-flops, wandering through to the living area as he pulled on his shirt. Frowning as he noticed the front door ajar, he was making his way across to close it, when he felt something hit the back of his head. With force. The room pitched, nausea and darkness overwhelmed him and Flack crumpled to the floor unconscious….

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

Rebecca hurried back, balancing the take-out boxes and the carry tray with the coffee in her hands, the newspaper tucked under her arm. She took the steps up to their floor two at a time, anxious to get back to her incredibly hot roommate, friend and lover, who she hoped was still asleep. She was kind of worried he'd be pretty angry if he woke to find her gone. Still, she was hoping he'd say thank you for breakfast. Yeah, make that very much hopeful he'd say thank you in her favorite way. She bounded down the corridor, smiling as she saw the door to their apartment slightly open, thinking Flack must have gotten up already and opened it for her so she didn't have to fiddle with the keys. She turned an opened it further using her backside, a bad habit from childhood when she had her hands full, nudging it with her foot to stop it closing on her. She turned again and promptly dropped everything she was carrying, the coffee spilling out from the cups across the floor.

There, in the middle of the room, sitting in a hard back chair, Flack's gun in his hand, was someone she'd never thought she'd ever see again. And Flack was unconscious and incapacitated, his hands tied in front of him, gagged, blood dripping from his head, propped against the wall.

James Ashton looked frantic and angry.

Rebecca took a step backwards towards the door. Too late she heard the pressure of a step just inside the apartment, the sound of the hinges as someone opened it. She tried to turn to see who was there, relief flooding over her, someone grabbed her and firmly placed a hand with some fabric over her mouth. Rebecca struggled, biting her attacker on the arm, trying to scream against the heavier bulk of her attacker, quickly realizing the sweet and sickly fumes from the pad in his hand had some kind of drug on it, but she was swiftly overcome with the effects and soon slumped into her attacker's arms, unconscious….

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

Danny hadn't been able to reach Flack on either his cell or his landline, but then again, he thought, he was probably _busy._ Hepulled into a vacant space across from Flack's building, much to the irritation of both Bones and Booth, who both wanted to get to the lab and begin work on the case at hand, to compare notes on what they had all turned up on James Rushton. He assured the DC visitors he would only be a couple of minutes, as he had to grab a set of case notes from Flack that needed dropping off at the precinct. All his protests to wait in the vehicle were met with the occupants all getting out to come with him; Bones wanted to see Rebecca, Booth wanted to see Flack and Sweets – well Sweets didn't want to be left alone.

Danny silently cursed the turn of events, knowing they would be later back to the lab if the ladies started talking and hockey came into it. Still he led the way up to the third floor, down the corridor to Flack's apartment.

As they got closer to the door, he noticed it was ajar, so totally unlike Flack that it worried Danny. He stopped dead in his tracks, his head on one side, trying to figure out what to do next. Booth bumped into the back of him, before stopping and looking where Danny indicated. The two men exchanged a glance and pulled out their service weapons. Danny edged himself to one side of the door, pointing his gun down as Booth took up position on the other. Bones moved behind him, nudging him in the back.

"Bones," hissed Booth, "Not now!"

"Give me your other gun," she said, "I'm good with weapons!"

She insisted for a couple of minutes, as Danny rolled his eyes heavenward at the delay. Finally Booth pulled up the leg of his pants and pulled his spare hand gun from his ankle holster, handing it to her.

"Just don't point it at me or any other of the good guys," he said.

"I'm a good shot," Bones huffed, taking off the safety and pointing her weapon at the floor.

Danny gave a quizzical look at Booth, who just shrugged his shoulder. A nervous looking Sweets darted behind Bones, looking for all the world like a scared little boy.

Danny rapped his knuckles on the door to the apartment.

"Flack buddy," he called, "You alright in there?"

No reply. Danny nodded and Booth went through the door first, followed by Danny and the others.

To find the small apartment empty, the cooling coffee pooled on the floor, the open take-our cartons of food spilling their contents as well. A chair was turned over and Danny, with a sick feeling in his stomach, saw the smear of blood against the wall by the door to the bedroom.

No-one there and signs of a struggle. Not good. He flipped open his cell and called it in, before calling his boss.

"Mac?" he said, "You better get over to Flack's place. Signs of a struggle but no signs of them. I gotta bad feeling boss. Better get an APB out on them. Get everyone looking."

Dr Lance Sweets moved into the apartment as looked around himself. Whoever did this, he thought, was familiar with the layout in the small place. And that meant a whole new ball game. Someone knew their way around.

Bones spotted the pad of cloth on the floor by the door, a small smear of blood on it. Whipping a latex glove out of her pocket, she put it on and picked the pad up, sniffing it, before putting it away from her face.

"Chloroform," she announced, looking at Booth and Danny, the realization of what had happened dawning on their faces.

Rebecca and Flack were gone. Taken by whoever was after Rebecca. And that couldn't be a good thing.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

Groggy, Rebecca slowly came round, the room still spinning, before promptly turning on her side to retch helplessly as the drug left her system, aware of strong arms holding her, stroking her hair as she vomited. She collapsed backwards onto his chest, looking around her at the damp stone walls, the moss growing on them, aware of a slight breeze above her head. It was cold and she shivered. The light flickered over their head, casting an eerie shadow over the cellar. She twisted her head, wincing at the nausea the movement brought on, relaxing when she saw the familiar, yet concerned pair of blue eyes watching her.

"You took a long time to come round," said Flack, "I was beginning to worry."

"Chloroform," said Rebecca, gingerly pulling herself to a sitting position, "Nasty stuff. Makes you sick as hell."

She touched the sticky patch on Flack's head, gently searching for the bump she knew must be there, frowning as he winced when she touched a tender spot.

"He got you good," she said, then with a small smile added, "Good job you have such a thick skull."

Flack grinned and lifted his palm to cup her face. She leaned into it.

"A very good thing," he agreed.

She looked around. Flack noticed her actions and before she could stand up, he pulled her back into his arms.

"I already looked," he said, "Door can't be opened from the inside and the grate is cemented into the ground and the walls. We're gonna have to wait for the cavalry."

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

They didn't have long to wait for their kidnapper to come back. The two sat themselves up against the wall, Rebecca's hand held on tightly to Flack's as he came into the room, a gun trained on them. He looked slightly crazy, thought Rebecca, unstable.

"Well, well, well," said Rushton, looking at the two of them, "The two sleeping beauties finally awaken. You took your time."

Rebecca frowned.

"Who are you?" she asked, "I know you from somewhere, don't I?"

Rushton smiled sadistically in a way that sent shivers through her.

"Don't you remember me Rebecca," he said, "The flowers I left on your pillow, the way I always looked out for you and protected you?"

And suddenly Rebecca was transported back to her teenage years and recognized the man in front of her as the extremely strange and odd gardener who had been employed by her parents until he suddenly disappeared. She went white, remembering the flowers, always seeing him, the things that went missing from her room. All of it fell into place.

"Oh my god," she whispered, "This was all you?"

Rushton nodded, "Trying to get your attention, show you I hadn't forgotten you."

His face changed, twisting into a snarl.

"But you didn't wait for me!" he screamed, "You turned to him!" he pointed at Flack with the gun. Rebecca shrank against Flack, his arms tightening around her.

"You're just like all the others!" Rushton exclaimed, "I tried to make them you, I tried and tried but it wasn't the same. You were supposed to be different! But you're just like all the rest of them. And now you're going to be sorry! You're my main act."

He advanced on the two of them, bending down so they could see the unhinged look in his eyes.

"So I brought him here too to punish you," he said, "You get to watch and then you and I are going to have some fun."

He stood up and walked to the door. He gestured with his gun to Flack to get to his feet, right before his cell rang. Rushton turned his back and took the call. They could hear his angry tone and he spoke sharply into the phone, before ending the call quickly. He turned back to the two.

"Well," he said, "Now we gotta wait and I need to take care of some business. Lucky you," he added, "Now you get to say goodbye to each other."

He walked out of the room, slamming the door shut and shooting the bolts home. Rebecca shook in Flack's arms, terrified.

_They were going to die_, she thought, _and this was all her fault._

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

Flack held Rebecca for what seemed like the longest time. He stroked her back soothingly, like he'd done that day in the elevator. She held on to him, gripping his arms tightly like she never wanted to let you.

"I don't wanna lose you," she whispered and his arms tightened around her.

"I know baby," he said, "I love you." He kissed her forehead. "We're gonna get out of this baby, I promise. Then we've got the rest of our lives together to think about."

He meant it. Rebecca didn't say anything in reply. Flack looked down at her.

"You know something?" he asked, trying to lighten the mood, "You're the only woman Danny's never given a nickname to."

"What about Dusty?" returned Rebecca.

"Doesn't count," replied Flack, "Besides, he gave that one up after you kicked his ass."

Rebecca chuckled slightly.

"Nope," said Flack, "he never called you by your birthplace or state. He calls Lindsay Montana most of the time and there was this one girl we both used to know who got saddled with Brooklyn." He grinned. "He used to refer to my ex, Devon, as the Manhattan man-eater."

Rebecca sat up, smiling at him.

"Well," she reasoned, "I think he knew what I'd do to him if he'd ever called me Washington," she put her head on one side, "Although I could have lived with Columbia."

"Columbia?" said Flack, a little confused. Rebecca punched him lightly in the arm.

"District of, dumbass," she said, "Plus Columbia was always who I went to Rocky Horror showings as at university. I had short hair in school." She tugged at her long locks. "I guess now I'd have to go as Magenta."

Flack laughed, thinking about the cult film and how some of his academy buddies had once dressed up as Frank-n-furter one Hallowe'en. Not him though. No, not him.

Rebecca moved herself into his lap and put her hands around his neck, looking into his blue eyes with her brown ones.

"I know you say we're going to make it out of here," she began. Flack shushed her.

"Don't even think it sweetheart," he said, "Don't. We _will_ get out of here."

"But in case we don't," she insisted, "I have a bad idea of what he's planning for me and.."

He cut her off, a finger to her lips.

"Baby, now is not the time for that." He said.

"Please," she begged, "Please Don, let me have one good memory of this place, just in case."

He looked into her eyes, seeing the panic, the fear and the need and he realized he couldn't deny her what she wanted. And he was determined he was going to make sure it was enough to chase any other bad memories away. And be something damn good to think about, whatever happened next.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

She felt his strong hands come up to rub her back gently as her own wound around his neck, running her fingers through his short hair. She pulled his head to hers and kissed him, feeling the stubble on his face lightly graze her soft skin. She opened her mouth, hearing his light groan as she deepened the passionate kiss. Their caresses had an urgency to them and yet were unhurried. His hands drifted south as his teeth lightly nipped the sensitive skin under her jaw, his tongue following to soothe the small marks. He pulled back slightly, taking in her dilated pupils, her slightly parted lips and he knew he had to kiss her again….

They were both aware this could be the last time for them and every touch, every movement was as though they were searing the other into their memories, imprinting every inch of each other, every move, just in case….

As he moved over her, running his hands in her hair, their clothing discarded or pushed to one side, causing her to gasp as he made love to her with a gentle urgency that had them both gasping in pleasure, he bent his head to hers.

"It's going to be OK, baby, I promise," he said, "It's gonna be OK. We're gonna get out of here and grow old together. I promise."

Rebecca's eyes locked with his as she locked her legs around his waist, drawing him deeper, her arms clinging to his shoulders as they continued to move, feeling the sensations build….

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

They lay there, clothes replaced, in each other's arms, legs tangled. Sated. Breathing together. Rebecca clung to Flack. She hated this waiting. For what was coming next.

A rustling sound disturbed them. Someone outside the grate. Flack disentangled himself and stood, looking up at the grate. And then, he couldn't believe his eyes. A fishing line with a small piece of food dropped through the grate from the street outside. A familiar figure.

Flack grabbed the line and tugged hard, causing Wilfred, the Rat Fisherman, to drop to his knees and peer through the grate. His eyes widened at the sight of Flack and Rebecca in the gloom.

"Hey Mr Policeman!" he said, "Watcha doin' down there?"

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

Flack reached up and grabbed his arm. Wilfred pulled away from him. He has good reason to avoid the cops. Flack cursed sharply. Wilfred made to move away. Flack reached his hand through the grate again.

"Hey!" he called, "Rat guy, you remember my friend, the lady cop with the curly hair?"

Wilfred stopped, then dropped to his knees again. He nodded.

"Do ya still got the card she gave you? With her number on it?" he asked.

Wilfred nodded again. Flack reached out again with a handful of dimes and quarters that happened to be in his pocket.

"Rat guy," said Flack, with no small amount of urgency, "I need you to go call her and tell her where we are. Tell her to come right now and bring the cavalry."

Wilfred stared at Flack, hesitating.

"Wilfred," said Flack, grabbing the other man's wrist, "We're in big trouble here and we need the cops."

Wilfred nodded, then scrambled to his feet and ambled away. Flack turned to Rebecca.

"Now all we can do is wait," he said, pulling her into his arms, holding her close, kissing the top of her head.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

Back at Flack's apartment building, Stella and Jess were canvassing the neighbors along with a bunch of uniforms without much success. For some reason unknown to the two women, Dr Lance Sweets had tagged along as well. They both considered him a hindrance rather than a help. Finally returning to the ground floor, they found the building super, Joe Savini, in his apartment. The over-weight man shook his head at the news.

"I can't believe it," he kept saying, "The two detectives taken like that." He rubbed his arm, covered by a shirt.

The two female detectives questioned him, not getting a great deal of information from him. Sweets watched him carefully, noticing the sweat beading on his forehead.

_He's nervous_, thought Sweets, _he's hiding something._ He watched as Joe rolled the sleeve of his shirt up to rub the bandage covering his forearm. Suddenly everything Dr Soroyan and Bones had been trying to teach him about DNA analysis came back to him. He tugged an irritated Stella's sleeve, pulling her aside.

"Can I remind you Dr Sweets," said Stella, "That you are an observer here? Can you please stop interrupting us?"

"Uh Detective," said Sweets, "Can you remind me if it's possible to extract DNA of someone's attacked from saliva in a bite?"

Stella looked at him, puzzled for a second. Sweets jerked his head towards Joe, whose focus of attention was on the pretty face of Jess Angell as she continued to question him. Stella's eyes came to rest on the bandage covering Joe's forearm, before he swiftly rolled the shirt back down to hide it. Stella's cool gaze met Sweets'.

"Rebecca puts up a fight," he said softly, "And she fights dirty."

Awareness dawned on Stella. She turned back to Joe.

"That looks nasty," she said, gesturing to his injured forearm, "What happened?"

"Just some a-hole," said Joe, wiping the sweat from his forehead, clearly unnerved by the two women, "Bit me when I tried to throw him out of the building."

_Bingo,_ thought Stella.

"Why don't you come down to the lab," she said, "I can get one of our CSIs to look at it – he's a qualified MD. Maybe we can swab it and run it through Trace. See if we can find the guy that did this to you in the system?"

Jess stared at Stella, a little perplexed. She wondered what the other woman was doing, but equally knew a rattled man when she saw one. She put her hand to her belt, making sure her gun and cuffs were in reach. Joe looked from one to the other, fully aware that there were more police officers in the building. His shoulders sagged and he went without much fuss.

DNA confirmed the saliva in the bite was Rebecca's.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

Kendall took the odd message from the NYPD switchboard regarding the Rat Fisherman's phone call about two police officers in the ground, as he put it. She waited until Stella returned from interrogation before passing the message along. Stella waved her away until Kendall said the three last words of the message – _Send the cavalry_. Stella turned slowly. That had to be Flack. She turned and raced down the corridor towards Mac's office, where he was discussing the case with Danny and Booth.

"Got a lead," she said, a little breathless, "Downtown."

That was all she had to say. They all hurried to the lift, Mac pausing only to call it in.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

Back in the cellar, Flack was trying not to let his growing concern show. He didn't want to alarm Rebecca, but with every passing minute, the likelihood of their being rescued dropped. He also suspected they were in this two block radius where there were interlinked basement cellars, meaning even if they did find them in time, they'd be searching a maze for the two of them, all of which took up valuable time. Time they might not have.

So when he heard the vehicle, followed by his name being called by several voices, he was kind of surprised. He stood up, sticking his arm out of the grate, shouting to get their attention. His hand was grabbed in a firm grasp and he saw the familiar blue eyes and dirty blond hair of his best friend now at eye level.

"Watcha doin' in this hole, Flack?" asked Danny, minus his usual grin.

"Cut the crap Danny," Flack bit out, "We don't have a lot of time. Can you get us outta here, before the perp comes back?"

"Workin' on it buddy," Danny replied, "Uniforms are looking for a way in now."

"I don't know if we got the time," said Flack, "You still got those chains in the trunk of your SUV?"

"Yeah," said Danny, quickly grasping what Flack wanted him to do, "Won't take me a minute to chain them to the grate and pull it outta the wall."

Flack heaved a sigh of relief. In minutes, Danny and Mac had firmly secured the chains to the grate and the SUV, then reversing the vehicle away from the wall until, finally, the grate came away, leaving a narrow but just passable gap between the ground and the bottom of the wall. Flack turned to Rebecca.

"You first," he said. He made to give her a boost up, when they heard the sound of someone walking down the corridor in a hurry. Alarm filled her eyes.

"Donnie…" she started.

"No," he said, "Go." He lifted her up so that Mac and Danny could grab her hands and pull her through the narrow gap. It was a tight squeeze and Rebecca's exposed skin was scraped by the rough stone. They pulled her clear, and EMT rushing over to her to put a blanket around her shoulder. Flack looked over his shoulder at the sound of the bolts being drawn back on the door.

"A'right Flack," said Danny, "Your turn bud."

He and Mac reached down to take his hands as Rebecca shrugged away from the concerned EMT trying to check her over for injuries. As Don's head got clear of the cellar, he was suddenly pulled backwards, disappearing from sight. Rebecca dropped to her knees, the blanket falling from her shoulders and she flung her arm back into the cellar as Mac grabbed her to stop her from following.

"Don!" screamed Rebecca.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

**OK so I'm not entirely sure about this chapter, but I owe you all an update like last freaking month, so I hope you can bear with it!**


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19 – Rescue Me?**

**Before I begin the usual disclaimers and thanks, I would like to make a statement.**

**When I first discovered this website and began writing again, for the first time in about 17 years, I was delighted to have found an outlet for my imagination and creativity. I was overwhelmed with the positive response to my ramblings and even more grateful to have made some wonderful friends through the site, who have encouraged me, allowed me to run ideas and scenes past them and I have had some wonderful critical reviews of my work. I have enjoyed giving feedback and have been honored to preview some scenes of friends' work not to mention had the privilege of being asked my opinion and seen some of my weirder ideas actually come into stories. To say this is humbling is barely scratching the surface. I would like to thank each and every one of my fans and reviewers for all their support.**

**However, I have been aware that there are people on this site who have taken it upon themselves to manage a campaign of hatred against those people whose work they don't like. Aside from the fact this shows just how narrow-minded and immature they are about the world (if you can't see that others have the right to think, believe - and write - their own vision of things), it also demonstrates just how jealous they are of genuine talent. I have been infuriated by the distress this has caused my dear, dear friends, to the point where they have questioned continuing their stories and that is just plain wrong. I have made many A/Ns on this subject and posted my feelings at the top of my profile.**

**What has really made my blood boil in the last 24 hours, however, is that it had been brought to my attention that apparently I have been saying some rather questionable and nasty things about my best friend. This is completely untrue, as those who have been doing this know full and fine well. I have been on the receiving end of this kind of behavior in the past and it is something I condemn and despise. I would like the message to get through to these people that this is, in fact,****libelous ****and as such, should I be in the same country as you, I would be within my rights to bring a civil case to the courts for restitution. As it is, I know what I have said to people and so do my friends. But if I am ever given the information as to who is spreading these malicious and false rumors I will not hesitate to demand action from this website's administrators against you.**

**I hope that clears things up and clarifies my position. **

**Usual disclaimers about who owns what (i.e. everything except the Rhodes family belongs to CBS/Bruckheimer/Alliance Atlantis/the music artists) applies.**

_**And a big, massive, wet-smackered thank you from the bottom of my shallow and narcissistic heart to everyone who voted for me in the CSI:NY 2009 Awards. I am quite sure I am not deserving of the Best New Author award, but I am hugely humbled and overwhelmed that you all thought I was. Thank you again and virtual cookies, chocolate and whatever else your poison might be to you. This one is for you.**_

_**And big fat congratulations to my friends (one of who won FIVE awards AND five runner-up positions too!) and to the rest of you who won as well. Very well deserved, so congratulations and a bottle of virtual Moet to you all as well!**_

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

He could hear her screaming his name as he was dragged backwards into the darkness by Rushton. He could also hear the distant shouts of a whole lot of people, some voices familiar, as his rescuers finally managed to gain entry into the warren that stretched under the city's streets for two blocks.

All he had to do was hold on until they got there. He shoved himself and his captor back hard, crashing into the wall, the blow forcing Rushton to let him go. His next move was to show his own head backwards, hard, into Rushton's face, hearing the profanities as he hit his target and the arms that had grabbed him let go of him to check the injury.

Flack had learnt from the best and the hard way, on the streets, how best to get out of someone's grip.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

A slightly nervous-looking Joe Savini, sweating a lot, sat across the table from Detective Jessica Angell and CSI Lindsay Messer, who had been called into work a few days early given the situation with Rebecca and Flack. Both women were not disposed to like the man in front of them, especially when a search of the apartment had turned up a bottle of chloroform and some "souvenirs" from other cold case crime scenes.

CODIS and AFIS had determined that Joe Savini was, in fact, known by several other names as well and had a record as long as Flack's fugly tie collection stretched end to end. From assault and battery to grand larceny, impersonating an officer to a few rape charges that had ended up being dropped, Joe Savini, or Giannetta, or Camorra to name but a few names he had gone by over the years had been one busy, busy boy. However, his most recent name change and the fact that he'd kept his nose clean for several years had meant he'd been one step ahead of the law. Until now.

However, the NYC cold case team – and those of a few other cities besides – were going to be very happy people indeed, given what CODIS had churned out. Joe Savini's DNA had been found all over the crime scenes of unsolved murders of lone women of various ages. For some strange reason (and appalling detective work, thought Jess), no-one had ever managed to put two and two together. Joe Savini had lived either close to or in he buildings of every single case, moving around so quickly that no-one had tracked him down. Jess could not figure out how he had managed to keep slipping under the radar for so long, but guessed it was just one of those things.

Judging from the look of him though, Savini knew the game was up. He knew he was going down. And, given the very long list of crimes across different states, knew full and fine well that his best chance of avoiding the death penalty was to come clean now and serve his time in NYC, rather than say, back in Florida or Texas. Which both had the death penalty.

Savini explained that he'd met Rushton in lock-up in DC one night, when he'd been arrested for being under the influence. It had been before he's started getting his kicks from the women, he explained. Rushton had been busted for some kind of aggravated assault and he'd explained his own charges. He'd told Rushton he was taking off for NYC as soon as he was released in the morning, because the heat was catching up with him. But he also recalled the interesting conversation they'd had about women and how they felt about them.

So when Rushton had showed up at his door not long after Rebecca had moved to the city, he'd been a little surprised to see him, but had enjoyed catching up on all his buddy's news. And passed along some of his own.

Lindsay felt sick as she listened to the overweight man describe how he'd killed five woman in different places, one right in his own apartment building, and gotten away with it. She'd also listened as he'd told her what Rushton had done and how he'd helped the man make his plans to get Rebecca. How he'd given Rushton a spare set of keys to Rebecca's apartment. How he'd let them both into Flack's place.

It was enough to make her want to check out every single building supervisor in a Tri-state area, to make sure they were all as squeaky clean as they said they were. Flack, she thought, was going to be seriously pissed. Right under his nose. The Irish detective was going to be seriously, seriously pissed.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

Rebecca waited anxiously with Stella, sitting on the step of the bus with a blanket around her shoulders. The anguish of not knowing what was going on all too readable on her face. Stella put her arm around the younger woman's shoulders, hugging her.

"He'll be OK," she said, "Flack has gotten out of tougher situations than this. He'll come walking around that corner any minute now. You'll see."

Rebecca turned her worried brown eyes to Stella's jade green ones, seeing the reassurance in them and feeling the queasy, unsettled feeling start to die down slowly. She put her head on the other woman's shoulder and started to think of all the things she was going to say and do to Donald Flack Junior as soon as she got her hands on him. And that thought brought a smile to her face, as she slowly started to believe that he was right – that everything _was_ going to be OK.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

The team had split up to search the maze of rooms under the surface. People had gone in all kinds of directions and now Booth and Danny were making a cellar-by-cellar search of their particular corridor, Mac and Bones taking the next one. In Kevlar, with service weapons drawn, they cleared them one by one, getting to the end of the corridor and feeling no little frustrated at no sign of Flack. Booth suddenly motioned for the two of them to stop and Danny heard the sound of ragged breathing from around the corner. Motioning to Danny to get ready, Booth raised his weapon to a firing position and swiftly moved round the edge of the stone….

…Only to be confronted by a tired looking Don Flack, bloodied head, bruised knuckles, but otherwise unhurt, slumped against the wall, the unconscious and far worse off figure of James Rushton lying motionless beside him, the man's own shirt firmly securing his wrists. Flack looked up and acknowledged the two men with a weary nod of his head. Booth and Danny lowered their weapons. Danny wiped his sweaty palm across his forehead after re-holstering his gun.

"Jeez Flack," he admonished sarcastically, "Way to scare the shit out of the department."

"Thanks," said Flack, "Next time I want to spend the day at the hands of a psychopathic killer with my girlfriend on my day off, I'll let you guys all know in advance, a'right?"

And the three men suddenly broke into hysterical laughter as the tension of the day suddenly released. Booth holstered his own weapon and gestured at Rushton.

"He alright?" the FBI agent asked. Flack glanced quickly at the motionless figure.

"He, err, kept banging into the wall and shit," he said, "And then kept hitting my fist with his face. Damn shame."

Danny snorted. Booth grinned.

"So any objections to the FBI starting the paperwork to get him shipped back to DC for prosecution."

"Not at all," said Flack, "I think it might be better for his health if he was in another state." He pulled himself upright with the assistance of Danny, the shorter man giving him his support despite the glare from the dark-haired cop.

"Now if you don't mind, I think I'd like to go find my girlfriend," he said with a relieved grin on his face. The three men made their way slowly back towards the stairs.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

The information had come across the radio that the two men had been found, but as the men giving the news had not been right there, they were unable to speak as to how they were and a worried Stella and frantic Rebecca were waiting, the latter pacing the alley. Slowly, all the uniforms, Mac and Bones had reappeared, but not the final three. Stella had grabbed Mac into a huge hug, giving away her own fear for him going into the warren beneath them and an amused looking Mac had returned the hug with a few murmurs that he was just fine and everything was just OK. He'd gently stroked the woman's curls, before she had pulled away, a little embarrassed at her behaviour.

And then, all of a sudden, Booth had appeared from around the corner, Flack and Danny beside him, the latter supporting his best friend. That had been it; Rebecca had raced towards him, almost knocking him over as she'd grabbed him in a fierce hug. Flack had grinned (and winced severely as her hug was kind of tight) and kissed the top of her head.

"I'm OK babe," he said, "I'm OK."

Rebecca looked up at him, running her hands over his arms, anywhere she could in an unconscious check to see if he really was OK and then Flack was collared by two EMTs and nearly dragged back to the bus to be given the once over, to his distinct lack of amusement. Rebecca followed him, taking his hand and holding it in a death grip, unwilling to let him go. Flack looked down, amused.

"Am I going to get that back?" he asked, jokingly, nodding to their joined hands. Rebecca tightened her grip.

"Not in this lifetime," she replied, "No bloody way."

Flack grinned softly, leaned towards her and softly kissed her on the lips. Those around them who had heard the exchange chuckled to themselves. Mac cleared his throat.

"We need to get back to the precinct," he finally stated, "To get both your statements once you've been checked over at the hospital."

The look that Flack and Rebecca both gave him told him quite clearly that the two of them were not going anywhere near Trinity, Angel of Mercy, Bellvue or any other emergency department in the city. Mac smiled at them.

"OK, so we'll get Hawkes to check you over at the lab," he said, "Seeing as the two of you have a serious aversion to that idea."

The uniforms headed off in their squad cars, back to serve and protect; the EMTs left in their bus, empty handed and the two black SUVs headed back to the Crime Lab.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

Jess and Lindsay had filled Flack in on the situation with his building supervisor after he'd given them his statement of the day's events. At first incredulous, they'd then seen the fury build on his face and his fingers, barely visible under the bandages on his hand, turn white as he'd gripped the edge of the table. His polite, quiet request to see Joe, the man he had thought so trustworthy, had been denied. Flack felt sick at the thought that the man had also probably killed his gentle neighbor, Mrs Solis, a few months before. The ME's office currently had a motion to exhume her body before one of the judges.

Lindsay had reassured him that someone had arranged clean-up of his apartment and that it would be ready the next day. Once they had finished completely gathering the evidence and photographing the place. She grinned as she told him Sinclair had authorized the department to pay for both him and Rebecca to spend a night or two in a very nice hotel. Flack had smirked knowingly at that and asked how much longer she was going to be with her damn questions in that case.

"My god," exclaimed Angell, "Is that all you ever think about?"

Flack considered this for a moment before replying.

"No," he said, "I also think about hockey. For maybe ten percent of the time."

Angell had shaken her head at that and smacked him upside the head as she'd passed by.

Mac and Stella had interviewed Rebecca. Rebecca had been shaking as she'd described the day's events, coming back to find Flack the way he was, the terror as she'd been incapacitated. She had patiently allowed Hawkes to check her over and give her a clean bill of health.

Now she was in the locker room, taking a hot shower.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

As the hot water beat down on her and she lathered the dirt of the ordeal off of her, she turned her thoughts to one handsome detective and smiled. It was all over she thought, now they could move on. She sighed. She hoped she's meant what he'd said earlier.

The sound of a throat clearing just beyond the shower curtain brought her back into the moment.

"Bec?" said Flack, "That you in there?"

Rebecca grinned.

"Indeed it is, Detective," she said, "You coming in to scrub my back?"

Flack tried to clear his mind of the dirty image that suddenly flooded it.

"Uh Bec," he said, his voice a little shaky, "You'll need to do that yourself. I am not getting into that shower with you."

"Spoilsport!" pouted Rebecca. Flack chuckled.

"Later babe," he said, "We won't be getting out anytime soon if I do and there is no way I want our colleagues to know what we get up to in private. The department is putting us up in a hotel for a couple of nights so we can have some water fun later if you still want to."

Rebecca laughed.

"I'm going to hold you to that Don," she said.

He hoped she was going to hold him to a whole lot more than that, he thought, grinning as he changed into the clean sweats he had in his locker. Hawkes had obligingly stitched up the nasty wound on the back of his head and cleaned his wounds. A couple of Tylenol and a shower later he felt a whole lot better.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

The hotel was nice, thought Don, staring up at the ceiling, not that he'd been that aware of it, seeing as Rebecca had been all too anxious to get up to their room. In fact, if you'd asked him at that precise second to describe the layout of it, he'd have been hard pushed to tell you.

He'd been kind of busy. Well the love of your life deciding she wanted to be in charge for a change and doing all kinds of extremely arousing and dirty things to you pretty much tended to take up all your thought processes. And of course, saying thank you _also_ tended to clog your brain up as well. So now the two, hot, sweaty, tired bodies were definitely in need of a shower.

He turned his head to one side to look at his girlfriend, who was also staring up at the ceiling. Their eyes met. They both smiled at each other.

"So," said Don.

"So," replied Rebecca.

"How about we check out that bathroom," he added, "'Cause I feel in need of another shower right about now."

Rebecca grinned at him and slipped off the bed, wandering over to the bathroom. Don watched her retreating naked body with no small amount of appreciation. He sighed, before getting out of the bed himself and following her into the bathroom. He watched Rebecca fiddle with the temperature controls to the large shower unit that stood in the middle of the bathroom, ensuring the flow of water wasn't too hot or pressured, before stepping inside. Don followed, closing the door behind them.

She turned to face him, smiling up at him, bottle of shower gel in hand. She poured a small amount into her hand and then handed the bottle to him. They both lathered the liquid into rich foam, covering every inch of their bodies, their touches soon growing bolder as the minutes passed. Don could feel himself growing more aroused by the second as Rebecca's hands wandered down to make sure _every_ inch of him was covered with the soap. He kissed her, smirking a little as she deepened the kiss and lifted her arms around his neck, pushing her body closer to his. He chuckled and put her slightly away from him, pouring some shampoo into his hand, indicating that she should turn round. He lathered the liquid up, applying it to her hair, rubbing it through her long tresses. He heard her moan as his fingers firmly massaged the tension out of her scalp. He turned her back to face him as he guided the water so that nothing flowed into her eyes. As the water ran clear, he kissed her again, backing her so that she was up against the tiled wall of the cubicle, lifting one leg so that he could get better access to her most sensitive parts.

He kissed her neck as he parted her folds, smiling to himself as he felt how wet she was, catching his breath as her hands gripped him. He returned his lips to hers as he started to stroke her throbbing clit, rewarded with mewling sounds of pleasure that he ate into a kiss.

"Please," she begged, "Please."

He smiled and lifted her slightly, supporting her against the wall with his strong hands. Slowly he allowed her weight to slide down onto him, both of them gasping at the sensation of his being inside her. He kissed her again as she wound her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, pulling him closer to her. He held her hips as he thrust gently inside her, her moans and gasps quickly causing his movements to become stronger and more purposeful. He looked deep into her eyes, seeing the love and need for him in them, watching as she smiled right back at him. He watched as she bit her lip, closing her eyes as he hit a sensitive spot inside her, watching her mouth part in uncontrolled passion as he did it again and again, then the almost desperate was she kissed him as he returned his hand to stroke her most sensitive spot, bringing her ever closer to the point of no return.

She grasped his buttocks as he thrust deeper, feeling her muscles begin to flutter around him, watching as the telltale flush began to color the pale skin of her face and décolleté and he grinned, knowing they were both getting close. She reached it first, the contracting of her muscles triggering his own release and he felt himself spill into her hotly. He let her slide slowly down him, till her feet touched the floor of the shower, her arms still around his neck. She smiled and kissed him softly.

"You're right," she whispered, kissing him again.

"About what?" he asked.

"Definitely keeping that out of the workplace," she replied.

He chuckled, smiling down at her and kissed her quickly on her lips before turning off the water. He grabbed a couple of towels, wrapping her in a large fluffy sheet, before wrapping a smaller one around his waist, then her carried her back to the bedroom, her arms around his neck.

One more night and they'd be back at their place, he thought.

Home.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

**So the penultimate chapter is DONE! Did you REALLY think I would let something happen to my favorite detective? Shame on you all!**

**Shorter one than usual and the last may be even shorter, but I hope you're still enjoying it so far!**

**You know the drill – leave a message after the….**


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20 – Changes**

**OK, so this is the last chapter, but there IS an epilogue too, which I hope you'll love and think is the perfect end to the story!**

**I'd like to thank everyone for reviewing and reading and generally hanging in there for the ride. This was my first story in a long time and will always be my baby ******

**Disclaimer: Now do I really have to go into the fact I own The Rhodes Family and no-one else, let alone the songs **_**again?**_** Thought not, LOL.**

**Congrats again to everyone who did well and won in the awards. It's fantastic when you win and when your friends win too let me tell ya! Now we're officially on hiatus, we need some ideas for the CSI: NY Drinking Game. Or just join in Flack Watch. The criteria for Flack Watch are up there – post your rating for an episode on the forum as and when! Let the games begin (and thanks Shabbs!)**

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

The year was rolling on and as Rebecca sat in the living room of the apartment she shared with Flack, she had to admit she never would have guessed how things would turn out when she moved to the Big Apple.

She certainly wouldn't have expected to be the focus of a serial killer. She certainly wouldn't have expected to be kidnapped by said kidnapper and then rescued quite so spectacularly. And, she the thought with a smile on her face, she _definitely_ hadn't expected to find – and move in with – the sexiest, blue-eyed detective to come out of Queens, NYC. Some people (including her brother) thought she was moving a little too fast. Others (including her mother) thought she was settling for someone beneath herself. But Rebecca didn't give a rat's ass what anyone thought anymore frankly. She had a great job, a great man. A great life, in fact.

She had formally introduced Don to her family when they had traveled to Washington for Harrison's engagement party. True to form, her mother had been inexcusably rude, but her father had been, well, much warmer and more open than she'd ever seen him. As Don had commented when they had been getting ready for bed later that night at their hotel, sometimes it took nearly losing a kid to appreciate them. Since then, Stanley Rhodes had called his baby girl every day, sometimes twice or more, just to see how she was. Rebecca was touched. And in no small way relieved. She was a Daddy's girl through and through at heart. Vanessa however, still wasn't sold on Rebecca's turn to the dark side of blue collar life and certainly wasn't impressed with Flack, although she usually managed to hold her tongue in his presence and on the phone. One time of being read the riot act for her behavior by said detective had seen to that. Rebecca, however, knew her mother better than that. She had a tiny concern that the worst was yet to come.

So now they were back home, starting to prepare for Christmas, which was a few weeks away. They regularly went over to the Messers' for dinner or had them back to theirs. Rebecca had become fond of eating in and cooking, attempting to break Flack's take-out habit of a lifetime. She was also firm friends with Jess, something which still had Flack break out in a cold sweat every time he saw them talking (and laughing hysterically together) in his vicinity. The laughter usually followed a glance in his direction. For his part, Flack's career was on the up and up and he had exams for the next grade in the New Year to think about. The Crime Lab's case solve rate was higher than it had ever been and, shock of shocks, Mac and Stella, at a team night out just the week before, had sheepishly announced they were together. To which Danny had replied in a very loud voice, "It's about time!" before everyone else at the table had thrown the bucks at Rebecca, who had won that pool, much to Flack's amusement.

Things were just right, Rebecca thought, just perfect. And soon to be even more so in her opinion.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

Flack was perusing the realtor's list of properties Rebecca had given him. She had pointed out that his apartment, with all the hockey gear he had lying around, was really getting too small (and hazardous in the dark) for the two of them and that they _really_ needed to find somewhere else. He had to admit her reasoning was sound – they both made pretty good money and she still had the legacy from her grandmother to put sizeable deposit down on their own place. He sighed as he looked through the ones she had circled. All of them three bed or more.

_What do we want with a three bed plus in one of the other boroughs?_ He shook his head. Mind you, one of the nicer four beds was pretty close to his parents' place and Rebecca had really hit it off with them. They spent most Sundays that they didn't have to work over there and Senior was really taken with the pretty CSI. In fact, he had taken Flack aside just last week and pressed a small jewelry box into his hand – his grandmother's engagement ring – and told his son to hurry up and get the ring on her finger before she figured out what a huge mistake she was making.

Yeah, his folks loved Rebecca, that was for sure, only Flack wondered if a relationship of just a few months was enough to propose on. Sure she hadn't moved back to her own place after the whole incident with the two wackadoos, but that in itself was maybe a little quick. Well everyone bar the Messers seemed to think it was too quick.

The new supervisor seemed like a stand-up guy, although he was downright terrified of Flack. Something that Flack thought was hilarious and gave him a good excuse to glare at the poor guy whenever he saw him. Rebecca scolded him whenever she caught him doing it, but Flack just couldn't resist.

Aside from the upcoming exams, work was great. He and Angell still made the best partnership at the precinct and even the Inspector was pleased with his success rate. He'd heard on the grapevine that she's actually written a recommendation for his promotion, from a reliable source too.

All good things, he thought, all good things.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

Another day, another dollar so the saying goes and Rebecca was to be found on the 35th floor engaging in analysis alongside Adam. She liked working with Adam. He was straight up, funny, intelligent and always delivered the goods, going above and beyond the call of duty processing evidence and then some.

All her preparations for the evening ahead were done and she'd texted Flack to tell him she had a surprise for him at home. A smile tugged at her lips. A very big surprise.

She turned her attention back to the microscope in front of her, examining some minute particles of trace that Danny and she had brought back from their crime scene that morning. A very nasty and disgusting crime scene that had had her lose her breakfast and the mid morning bagel and tea she'd had with Jess before they'd all ventured out to Crown Heights. Danny had just laughed and said he'd been waiting for the day. Danny had unfortunately landed up in a ditch some sanitation guys were digging nearby. The photo Jess had taken had been quickly sent to everyone at the Crime Lab and no few members of the NYPD as well.

Mac and Stella were in his office having some sort of meeting. At least that's what they said they were doing. He'd uncharacteristically pulled all the blinds on the glass walls closed. Adam had been sensible enough not to comment. Danny, on the other hand, had made one of his infamous smart-ass comments, which had resulted in his being slapped upside his head by both Rebecca and, get this, Kendall. Apparently the vacuous blonde, who had her occasional moments of sheer genius, had a real soft spot for her boss and the curly-haired CSI. Who'd have guessed?

Hawkes was down with Sid in Autopsy. Mac had been making jokes about sending him back to the ME's office if he was going to continue to spend so much time down there with the bodies. Rebecca knew it was just because Hawkes and Sid worked so damn well together when it came to the bodies. Well, she reasoned, you had to have a hobby…

Plans for dinner on Friday night with the whole team were underway. Rebecca had confirmed the booking at a restaurant close to Sullivan's. Quite what people were going to think, she didn't know, but she guessed they'd find out then.

And Flack had managed to score some sweet tickets at the next Rangers game, something Rebecca had thanked him for several times over the last few days. He had managed to hide the NHL store bag from her, although she had a pretty good idea what was in it. Her Christmas present. With a big "30" on the back. Her favorite player. She sighed. He knew her so well. In return she had the complete box set of some procedural crime show he liked so much already wrapped in her locker, although what he saw in it she would never know. She regularly teased him about never being able to be off the clock.

"But babe," he would say, all too reasonably, "It helps keep my mind fresh on the game and plus, now I got a better idea of what you do!"

"So long as you know we don't solve cases or process evidence in an hour," Rebecca had replied.

Things were good, thought Rebecca, and looking in the direction of the elevators, the doors of one which had just opened, the person getting off had made things just all that better.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

To call Don Flack Junior surprised at his unexpected visitor to the precinct was stating the fucking obvious.

He had been knee deep in paperwork, filling out reports on crime scenes, updates on cases and, worst of all, a statement about some junkie moron who had only had to go and expire on them during interrogation. So looking up to see the blonde woman, dressed to kill, in front of him had not done anything to improve his day any. He had pretended to ignore her. So she had cleared her throat so that he was forced to look up and acknowledge her. He leaned back on his chair and indicated to the one in front of the desk. He plastered a big, wide fake smile on his face.

"Mrs Rhodes," said Flack, "How nice to see you."

Vanessa Rhodes primly perched on the edge of the wooden chair he indicated, giving it a look as though she were terrified she was going to catch something.

"So," he continued, not getting even the most uncivil of replies, "Do what do I owe the pleasure? You in town to see Bec?"

Vanessa Rhodes winced at his use of the nickname she hated.

"Actually Detective," she said, "I'm here to see you."

Flack had leaned forward, puzzled, as Vanessa had opened her purse and taken out an envelope and handed it to him. He ripped it open without ceremony.

His confusion mixed with curiosity had vanished as soon as he'd taken one look inside the envelope.

A personal check. To the tune of fifty thousand dollars. Made out in his name.

He looked at Vanessa Rhodes, who met his glare with no fear and a cool measured look in her own blue ones.

"Is this what I think it is?" he said roughly.

Scagnetti and Angell looked over, hearing the tone in his voice.

"You a'right Flack?" asked Scagnetti.

"I'm just peachy," said Flack sarcastically. Angell got to her feet, leaned against her desk and crossed her arms. Flack turned back to Vanessa.

"You're gonna have to explain this to me," he said, "'Cause I need to hear it from you _exactly_ what this is."

Vanessa flushed a little.

"It's for you," she said, "To leave my daughter and convince her that she should come back to Washington DC. Where she belongs and leave this silly little life behind. She has had her fun. Now she needs to grow up and take her proper place in society."

Angell started to move towards them, an angry look on her face. Flack held up his hand and waved her away. He stood slowly and looked at the woman in front of him.

"You know something," he said, "I think we should go and ask Bec about that idea."

He abruptly grabbed the older woman' arm, pulled her upright and steered her towards the elevator.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

Rebecca was not impressed to see the figure beside Flack, who was pulling her arm out of his and patting her hairdo with the other. She groaned audibly. Danny looked over.

"What's eating you Bec?" he asked. Rebecca gestured in the direction of the elevators where the two figures were walking towards her. Danny peered at them.

"Hey!" he said, "It's your personal bodyguard come to check up on you with, with…?" he faltered, not recognizing Rebecca's mother.

"And my mother," finished Rebecca.

"I don't think they've been having cozy time," said Danny, looking at the look of thunder on both faces.

"No shit," said Rebecca, getting up from her stool. She walked into the corridor to meet them. Standing in front of her mother, she crossed her arms.

"Mother," said Rebecca, "This is an unexpected pleasure. I didn't know you were in town. Why are you here."

Vanessa opened and swiftly closed her mouth again.

"Mommy dearest," said Flack, "Didn't come for the sales, the spa or the wedding list."

Rebecca raised her eyebrows at her mother.

"No babe," Flack continued, "She came to see me, to give me a present."

He handed the check over to Rebecca, who perused the writing, spotted it was from her mother's personal account and a look of fury came into her eyes. Flack took it back from her and in full view of the curious lab employees who were now standing in doorways or had their faces pressed to the glass walls by their various stations, began to rip it into very small pieces indeed.

"Your mom," he said, "Seems to think she could pay me to leave you and convince you to go home with her."

Rebecca glared at her mother.

"I told her to ask you," he continued, "Not that I don't know what your reply is going to be."

"I am home," said Rebecca, "And I am disgustingly happy with my life. And I am not ever coming back to live in that frozen mausoleum you call home sweet home."

She turned to Flack, holding out her hand.

"Baby," she said, "Can I borrow your handcuffs?"

Flack smirked and unclipped them from his belt then handed them to her.

"Always baby," he said.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY**

**And that's the end! Finito! Now to the essay… Enjoy the epilogue as well. Hope it clears up any, err, loose ends for y'all!**


	21. Chapter 21

**Epilogue**

**Written ages ago, as it just came to me ******** while messing around trying to get Word to work.**

**I hope you've enjoyed Flack and Bec's little journey. Please let me know if you want me to develop anything else…**

**Disclaimer: Aside from the Rhodes family (and a few new extras), Alliance/CBS/Jerry own everything else, except the music, which is owned by the owners (and not me)**

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY **

_Five years later_

Driving back to the precinct, Flack looked over at his wife, who was staring out the window. Silence was not really her thing.

She must still be in shock, he thought.

"Babe?" he asked.

Rebecca Rhodes Flack's head turned to look at her husband. She was glaring at him.

"You OK?" he asked, knowing he was in trouble and exactly what for.

"Would you remind me," she said, slowly, "Just how I, sorry **we,** got in this position _again?"_

Flack smirked. The trip to the doctor's office had been, well _interesting._

"Now honey," he said, "You're not seriously going to tell me you need me to explain the whole birds and the bees thing to you now this late in life?" he said jokingly, quickly regretting the words.

He winced as Rebecca thumped him on the arm.

"Babe," he said soothingly, "Can I help it if you find me just so goddamn _irresistible_?"

He flashed his devastating smile at his wife, who, slightly mollified, smiled back slightly. Flack knew he wasn't out of the woods with her. Roses, dinner and premium tickets at the next Rangers game, he thought, should sort that one out.

"I suppose not," she replied, "Although our getting carried away is getting out of hand!"

Flack grinned. Thanks to the trust fund Rebecca had inherited from her grandmother, it wasn't as though they had any money issues. They both had their careers, although Rebecca did more lecturing on forensic anthropology these days than time in the Crime Lab. They had a nice house, a happy family, WASP in-laws at safe fall-out distance in D.C. and money in the bank, not that they lived ostentatiously. And now, he felt that life was pretty much perfect, although he still got a bit of a rush when he raced after and took down a perp, just like he always had. He still got his man, he thought; _correction -_ The _Flacks_ still got their men.

And Rebecca did find him irresistible. As did he, she. She knew exactly how to wind him up, just as she always knew what the wicked glint in his eyes meant when he got in after a stressful day at work. Just like she knew what her wandering around the house after the kids were in bed, just in his old NYPD t-shirt and tiny shorts did to his state of mind. Flack also had to admit that the sight of his wife after a quick round of hitting the daylights out of her punch-bag (which now hung in their bedroom) pretty much did it for him too, as the combination of a light sheen of sweat, labored breathing and the latent aggression (for both of them) usually had them locking their door and having some "mommy and daddy time" pretty much the minute he realized what she was up to. The Flacks' insanely happy and passionate marriage was a source of envy and wonder to many of the CSI and NYPD officers, many of whom had had relationships and marriages break up due to the toll the job took on inter-personal relations.

Flack was pretty sure he knew _exactly _when they'd conceived this time. Rebecca had been up in D.C. paying a dual visit – duty visit to her family and personal (and real reason for the) visit to Dr Temperance Brennan, a.k.a. Bones, who had finally managed to convince her partner, FBI Special Agent Seeley Booth, that _they_ should have a baby. Or, as Booth had told Rebecca over the phone, he'd been so blinded by science and Bones' typical genetics arguments, plus nature versus nurture, not to mention the guilt trip she'd piled on him over the hours they worked together (so she never met any potential baby fathers), that he'd given in. Mind you, Rebecca had suspected that it was really because he adored Bones and plus, Parker had been agitating for a little brother or sister and now he had a little brother; Zachary Brennan Booth. Rebecca had assured Flack that Bones had pretty quickly figured out which way was up, plus Booth was an experienced and doting father. Rebecca thought that odd couple was kind of sweet, thought Flack. He just felt sorry for the poor kid, who would probably learn to count by counting bones from one of his mother's cases, but hey – chemistry and logic were funny things. Bones just had a funny way of putting things, but was very determined and liked getting her own way. He wasn't sure that Bones had realized the babies had minds of their own though and didn't read the baby manuals. Flack, prepared for once for her return and stressed out over playing Mr. Mom for 5 days, had managed to pack the kids off to the Messers' house so he could have some "alone time" with his beautiful wife. Danny, typically, had quite understood, but not without a few wise cracks on the side.

Not a day went by that he didn't thank god Rebecca Rhodes had decided to move into the apartment down the hall. And not a day went by when he didn't think of with pride the way Rebecca had stood up to her mother in the middle of the Crime Lab after they had arrested the man who had been plotting to kill her for so long and told her she would not be moving back to Washington to take up a position as society sweetheart and marry some trust or hedge fund jerk her mother thought was acceptable. Oh no, Rebecca had announced she was staying in New York. With her handsome detective.

Of course, the events, of just a couple of hours later, when Rebecca had found out her mother had stupidly tried to buy him off (which Rebecca, budding ace detective and CSI that she was then had instantly sniffed out), had kinda knocked him for six. Rebecca had insisted on publicly embarrassing her mother by dragging her down to the precinct on charges of attempting to bribe a police officer. Flack had gone along with it – after all the woman was a nightmare and needed taking down a few pegs – besides, he had to admit, watching a stormy and angry Rebecca taking on the bitch from hell was quite a turn on.

Till Rebecca had explained just _what_ part of the reason she was staying in NYC was. The surprise she had told him she would be telling him over dinner had turned out to be blurted out in one of the 3-5's interrogation rooms. With an audience of the CSI's finest (including one D. Messer) and a crowd of his NYPD colleagues watching from behind the mirrored window.

He, Donald Flack Jr, was going to be a daddy. Not quite how he wanted to find out about impending fatherhood though and he'd been in a state of shock for quite a while. It had taken several minutes of the captain waving his hand before his face, before a sharp slap from Jess Angell had brought him back to the land of the conscious, to see a sheepish Rebecca blushing and smiling shyly, right before he had grabbed her in the biggest hug of her life for making him one happy man. Engagement and wedding had followed pretty quickly after that and Aisling Caoimhe Flack had arrived eight months later, spitting image of her mother, with her father's eyes, hair and coloring, quickly wrapping her proud daddy right round her tiny fingers.

Grandma hadn't been charged, but she knew when she was beat. Rebecca had become a catholic, to Grandma Flack's delight, although Flack always suspected that was largely to annoy her Presbyterian parents as well as helping forge stronger family bonds. Flack was a man who went to church with his family every Sunday, when he wasn't called to a scene. And he was a man who came home to a family dinner as often as possible, as he wouldn't let his team down, a fact Rebecca respected. If she was honest, his dedication to his career and fellow officers was one of the things she loved about him.

Eventually, they pulled up to the precinct and got in the elevator, taking it to the 35th floor. They stepped out and headed to the break room, where Aisling was coloring a book, alongside her best friend, Louise Messer, who had paler hair, but matching blue eyes, just like _her _daddy. Aisling looked up at the approach of her beloved parents, unnoticed by Lindsey, who was wiping something that looked like chocolate off her daughter's face. Lindsey was also pregnant again, around six months. Aisling shot off her chair and launched herself at her father, who grabbed her and swung her up in the air, to her delighted giggles. She rubbed noses, an Eskimo kiss, with him. Lindsey looked up at the group of three.

"So," she asked, "How did the doctor's visit go?"

Rebecca sighed heavily. "Well my OB-GYN is going to get some repeat business again," she said. Lindsey shrieked and grabbed her friend in a big hug. Rebecca returned the embrace, by now smiling.

"That's fantastic!" said Lindsey, "Now that's three of us!" referring to Stella Bonasera-Taylor, who had recently announced she was expecting as well.

And then she asked the million dollar question, just as Danny walked in to see what all the noise was about.

"So how many are in there this time?" she asked.

Rebecca took a deep breath and held up two fingers.

"Again?" squeaked Lindsey.

"Man," said Danny, quickly catching on, "Flack, what _are_ you producing – super sperm or something?"

They were both referring to the unexpected arrival of DJ and Joe Flack barely a year after Aisling, which had surprised Rebecca and Flack. Now, three years later, another set of twins was set to take the Flack tribe up to five.

"Well, I'm working on the hockey team," said Flack, "All I need is for the boys to be drafted to the Rangers and Rebecca and I can retire to Bermuda!"

Rebecca glared at her husband.

"_Honey,"_ she said, "I am _not_ going for the whole hockey team. This time is absolutely the _last_."

Flack patted his wife on her butt, once he had put their daughter down to run back to her friend Louise. He kissed her on the cheek.

"That's what you said the last time," he said, right before he was swatted across the back of the head by his rapidly irritated wife, for his idiotic comment.

"Uh Flack," said Danny, clearly recognizing a man in need of rescue from the hormonal women gathering, "You wanna come check out the DNA from that case me and Mac have been working on?"

"Sure," said Flack, grateful from the opportunity to escape from the women, who were now clearly planning their baby showers and another expensive pre-baby shopping trip. The two men walked down the corridor to Trace, where Adam and Mac were putting the final stages on their report for the DA. Mac spent a lot more time in Trace than his office these days. In his office, he was a great deal more visible to Stella, than hiding behind monitors in Trace, not that anyone would _ever_ suggest _that_ to the boss, mused Flack. While Stella and Mac were insanely happy at their unexpected miracle pregnancy, Stella's hormones had caused her to become one slightly crazy woman at times, running from tears, to joy, to rage quicker than Sid could come up with some crazy-assed comment.

True to form, while the men were talking, said light of Mac Taylor's life stormed into Trace, demanding to know why she had been restricted (on doctor's orders), to the lab. Flack had retreated, leaving Mac to face the wrath of his lovely, but pregnant, wife. Going back to collect his wife and daughter from the break room, he saw Chief Sinclair bearing down the corridor towards him. The chief stopped in front of him and fixed him with a look.

"I hear double congratulations are in order _again_, detective," he said.

Flack grinned. "That they are, sir" he replied. The chief shook his hand.

"There's getting to be too many damn kids around this place," he grumbled, but Flack knew he didn't mean it. Aisling and Louise had the man pretty much eating out of their pretty little hands. The man NYPD's finest were terrified of had a major soft spot for the two future CSIs. He'd even agreed to open a crèche, although that had been at Stella's, uh, _request_. Bonasera-Taylor was the only person Sinclair was scared of, but her reasoning had been sound; it did get some of the most talented people on the force back to work that much quicker when they knew they could go cuddle their babies any time they wanted. And that was just talking about the men. Walking into the break room, he walked up to his wife and put his arm around her shoulder. He kissed her forehead.

"Let's go get the other two rug-rats from the crèche and head home," he said. Rebecca put her arms around her husband's waist and turned her face up to his, softly kissing his lips.

"That sounds perfect," she said, smiling, all the shock of the morning giving way to a rush of love for her husband.

And the five Flacks headed home.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY **

Later that night, as he held his sleeping wife in his arms, Flack couldn't resist thinking about the day he'd met her.

Yeah, he thought, things had _definitely_ looked up the day she'd moved into 3D.

**CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY CSI:NY **

**And that's it folks! Thanks for staying along for the ride. I really hope you enjoyed. Yeah, I know MrAprilFoolsWatanuki – I'm a closet SMACK'd shipper,m even though Flack's my man, with his blue eyes and fugly ties ********.**

**And Spanky, Tinks, everyone who has stayed along for the ride – I simply couldn't bear to do any re-writing and add any more smut to the epilogue. Nooooo – we have to have our Hallmark fromage moments as well LOL!**

**I've got a lot of school work on at the moment, but if anyone wants to know how Stella and Mac get together in my world…..**

…**.drop me a line and I'll see what I can do!**

**And in the words of Danny Messer. BOOM. Done.**


End file.
